Counterplay
by bammi1
Summary: After a terrible ordeal, Bobby's plans to return to a normal life are thwarted. Chapter 12 rated M for violence, sexual assault and language. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

A/N This is sort of a follow up to By the Book, although it is a story by itself. It continues with Bobby's life after his incarceration . Warning: lots of angst, possibly an M rating in later chapters. Language  
None of the C.I. characters belong to me

Counterplay

_They were coming for him; he could hear them, he could feel them. Again he had nowhere to go. He was trapped. He tried the door again, trying to pull it open, but it was locked. Just like every other time. Still he pulled on the door, with everything he had, knowing it would never open. They were closer now, he could make out the malicious laughter. He was desperate, any second they would be here. And they would do it, over and over…_

Bobby awoke with a start, dripping with perspiration, breathing rapidly, heart beating frantically. Lying back down, he tried to calm himself, but his heart seemed to beat even faster, till it seemed it would beat itself right out of his chest. For a second he thought he was having a heart attack, his chest hurt so bad, and his breathing wouldn't slow. He didn't move for a bit, just laid there, waiting. Eventually his breathing slowed, and the heart rate decreased. But his chest still hurt.

It was only four a.m., but Bobby already knew he was not going back to sleep. Even if he could, he didn't want to, not if it meant the possibility of more nightmares.

He finally got up, cursing his life. His dark curls weren't just damp, they were soaked, and his body just glistened with sweat. He padded his way out to the kitchen to put on some coffee, and while that was brewing headed for the shower. Ten minutes later the coffee was done, and so was he. He poured a cup for himself, and put some more in a disposable cup. Then he was on his way to 1 Police Plaza, and back to work, arriving about five a.m. At least there he could partially keep his mind off his own problems. The few overnighters were starting to get used to seeing him come in this early.

He sat wearily at his desk, exhausted, and pulled out a stack of folders, going through them listlessly. Lack of sleep was a killer. After all these years one would think he'd be used to it, but it just got harder and harder, and after a while he was no longer reading the words, just staring at them. Instead, his thoughts turned to an old enemy of his: James McFadden. That son of a bitch was the cause of all his misery, but hopefully that was going to change in a few weeks, when Bobby would testify against him in court. After that, when McFadden was locked away for good, maybe then the nightmares and everything associated with his stint in hell would go away.

Much later, a bleary eyed Alex Eames arrived, her own coffee in hand. It used to be that Bobby always had Starbucks coffee waiting for her. But ever since his release from his stay at Rikers, he'd been getting to work much too early to have hot Starbucks waiting for her. She missed that, but that was the least of her worries. She was very concerned about her partner; he just didn't seem to be getting better. Well, not entirely.

Bobby was slumped at his desk, his head resting on his arms, where he had drifted off after planning on just "resting his head for a minute." So far his minute had lasted a good half-hour.

"Bobby!" Alex whispered. "Wake up!" She shook his shoulder, immediately regretting it when he groaned softly, unconsciously reaching for and rubbing his shoulder.

"God, Bobby, I'm sorry! I didn't even think."

"It's okay," he mumbled.

"No, it's not, I should have remembered. And your shoulder should be better by now."

"It's okay, Eames. It's just a twinge. It's _okay_," he repeated. His tone suggested he didn't wish to discuss it any further.

He got up and headed for the break room. He opened his bottle of pain pills, and became aware of the fact there were only six left. _Crap! How the hell did they get so low?_ He'd have to remember to call in for a refill. Getting himself a drink of water, he swallowed two, followed by the water. He was really hurting now, and he cursed himself for falling asleep and not taking his pills on time, thereby letting the pain get the upper hand.

Sitting back down at his desk, Bobby started in on the paperwork, which was one of the few things he could do while on restricted duty. He wasn't happy about that, either; he still wasn't totally cleared for full duty yet. But at least he was now back to work.

Bobby's problems all stemmed from Nicole Wallace, his nemesis. Or ex-nemesis, since she was now dead. He had been accused of murdering her, arrested and beaten by the police, and been incarcerated for the duration of his trial. During that period, he had been continually threatened by both guards and inmates alike, and finally seriously injured in a brutal attack. Now, he was finally cleared, but suffered nightmares and continual pain from his injuries, some of which had never healed properly. Not wishing to have his return to work delayed, Bobby had tried to keep his pain under control. Barring that, at least keep it to himself. He wasn't completely successful in hiding it, however, and when it became apparent he was hurting he tried to downplay it as much as possible. Now, however, it was too late.

He was really hurting now. _Son of a bitch!_ Now that the pain had taken hold, there'd be no way of hiding it. His best bet now was to make some excuse to leave early.

Captain Deakins looked up from his own stack of papers. "Yes?"

"Uh…I got in early today. Paperwork is all done, there's no new cases. Think I could take off, maybe take care of some personal matters?"

Deakins frowned, not at all happy. He thought by now things would be back to normal, but Bobby was not acting normal, even for him. "Do you have a problem?" he asked.

"What? No. I just figured…"

"Listen Bobby, if you've got a problem, we can talk. We can make it unofficial—"

"There is NOTHING to talk about!"

"Bobby—"

"I need to take care of some business. That's all. Some…personal matters…"

Deakins stared at him for a moment. "Go. Go take care of your business."

Bobby nodded, and started for the door.

"Bobby?"

He stopped, closing his eyes for a moment, then turned back.

"Bobby…If you need me…. Well, you know that?"

Again Bobby nodded. Then he was out the door, only stopping at his desk long enough to pick up his binder.

Alex looked up at him. "So I guess you're leaving…?"

"Yeah. See ya tomorrow?"

"I'll be here."

Bobby started for the elevator as Alex watched. She was joined a moment later by Deakins.

"Whadda think?" Deakins asked.

Alex shook her head. "I…don't know, Captain. I just don't know…"

The minute Bobby made it inside his apartment he went into his bedroom, unbuttoned his shirt and removed it, very slowly, feeling the heat even through the shirt. He looked at his shoulder in the mirror. It was red and swollen. Right now he could hardly even move it. It was throbbing. Touching it gingerly with his left hand, he winced. Even merely touching the _skin _hurt. _This is just_ _fucking great,_ he thought. He pulled out the bottle of pills, and remembering, called the pharmacy for a refill. He thought about taking another, just one more to take the edge off the pain…

He laid down on his bed, taking care with his shoulder, and thought about how his life had taken such a turn for the worse since being in jail. Now he was facing another possible surgery. He'd already been told that there were no guarantees. If he had the surgery, and it was not successful, it could very well end his career as a detective with the Major Case Squad, a job he loved more than life itself. The last thing he wanted was permanent desk duty, or worse yet, retired on a disability. There was no way he could handle that. The only thing in his favor right now was that, being a lefty, it was his right shoulder that had not healed properly.

Soon he fell into a fitful sleep; his shoulder was aching, and once again the nightmares began.

tbc


	2. Chapter 2

Counterplay Chapter 2 

If Robert Goren were honest with himself, he'd have to admit to being worried. He could understand having some problems with his arm, the way it had been wrenched right out of its socket with the ligaments and tendons torn…well there was bound to be a few problems. But after all this time, instead of getting better it was getting worse. A lot worse. Some days he could hardly stand it. And yet, he denied it. He kept telling himself it was just a matter of time. Then, it would get better on its own.

The next day started off much the same as the previous: nightmares, lack of sleep, arriving early at work. Bobby was at his desk, awaiting the arrival of Alex. The only difference today was that now he had only two pain pills left. He'd have to make time sometime today to stop by the pharmacy. To save time, he thought he'd call the pharmacy and make sure it was ready.

A cheerful voice answered. "Thank you for calling R-X Pharmacy. This is Lainey. How may I help you?"

"Uh, this is Robert Goren. Can you tell me if you have a prescription ready for me?"

"Let's see…there's one here…"

_Great!_ Bobby thought. _Pick it up on my way home._

"Oh…it uh, looks like it's been denied."

"What? What do you mean, 'denied'?" Bobby asked. Already he could see where this was headed.

"There's a comment here…Ok, it says your doctor wants you to make an appointment."

It was with difficulty that Bobby managed to keep the edginess out of his voice. And it was even more difficult for him to ask the next question. "Okay, well, since I doubt I'll be able to get in today do you think you can give me a few from my next prescription until I can get in to see him?"

The tech hesitated. "Um, well normally we could do that with maintenance drugs, you know, like for blood pressure and heart meds, but yours is a controlled substance and we will need a new script."

"Absolutely nothing you can do, huh?"

"No. Sorry. Uh, maybe if you can't get in to see your doctor, you could go to the Emergency Room."

"Okay. Thank you for all your help," he said sarcastically. Thinking about it, he realized she was right, But that didn't make it any easier. As soon as he hung up the phone he lost it, throwing his phone against the wall and yelling, "FUCK!!!"

Arriving at that moment, Captain Deakins watched as the phone went flying and smashed into the wall, breaking into three pieces. Bobby groaned, cursing under his breath. Deakins picked up what remained of the phone.

"Something wrong?" he asked sardonically. "A new phone will be coming out of your next pay."

Bobby sighed, as Deakins continued on to his office. _Great._ Now he had to pay for a new phone, which was a necessity in his job. _Another thing to be thankful for._

XxXx

At least he was wrong in one respect. Surprisingly, his doctor not only got him in that day, but stayed late just to accommodate him.

Once at Doctor Springer's , the nurse led him into a room, instructing him to sit on the examining table and take off his shirt. He started to, with difficulty. It hurt like hell.

Seeing his difficulty, she asked if she could help. He shook his head. "I'll be a alright." Towards the end, though, she couldn't help it, and managed to help him a little. He gave her that beautiful smile of his. "Thank you."

The nurse did her best not to frown. "Looks like you hurt yourself pretty bad…"

"Hurt _myself_? I, uh…" He stopped. He wasn't about to get into the torture he'd suffered at the hands of James McFadden,

"Yeah, guess I did." God, he _hated_ McFadden. He couldn't wait to testify at his trial.

She smiled at him. "Doctor will be in just a few minutes."

It wasn't even a few minutes before Doc came in.

"Thanks, Doc, for seeing me on such short notice," Bobby said sincerely, shaking the doctor's hand.

Doctor Springer nodded. "Well, if we can't help out one of New York's Finest…besides, I wanted to see you anyway, since you failed to make your last appointment."

Bobby mumbled something about "time" which the doctor chose to ignore.

Without even examining his shoulder, Doctor could see it was bad. Frowning, he started his examination, and it was all Bobby could do not to groan, cry out, or give some other indication of how bad it really hurt. But he wasn't fooling the doctor.

"How long do you think you can on like this?" the doctor asked.

"I don't know, it's not good, I know, but it's not that ba—owww!" The doctor had moved his arm, just slightly.

"Not that bad, huh?"

"Christ, Doc!" Bobby said angrily. "What the hell?"

"If you think that was bad, Detective, wait about three months down the line when your arm becomes a useless appendage."

"What?" Bobby narrowed his eyes. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm saying that your shoulder is inflamed and infected. Apparently you've got a major problem going on, and if something isn't done, you could very well lose the use of your arm entirely, if not the arm itself."

Bobby stared at the doctor in stunned silence. Finally, "Well, what do you suggest?"

"Here's what we'll try. "I'll start you on an anti-inflammatory and a series of antibiotics. When the swelling goes down some we'll take some more x-rays. Depending on what shows up on the x-rays, we'll no doubt have to go in and do exploratory surgery, and then follow through on the results of that. Agreed?"

"Do I have a choice?" Bobby asked resignedly, not happy about this one bit. "This could set me back so far—"

"Actually…no. There is no choice in the matter at all. Bobby, this isn't just some random pain you've got going here. What you've got here is potentially life threatening."

Bobby sat quietly for a moment, staring at the floor. "Alright," he said quietly, looking up. "You're the boss."

"Okay. We'll also get you started on another painkiller. This one will be a little stronger. It will also have a slight sedative effect, so—"

"Can I go to work?"

The doc sighed. "Is there any way of keeping you away?"

"None at all," Bobby said.

"Alright. Just be careful with that painkiller till you know how it's going to affect you. And if your shoulder gets any worse before then, I want you back here or the ER immediately."

Bobby nodded, and started to put his shirt back on, trying the whole time not to grimace. He left the doctor's office actually feeling better, if not physically, then mentally. At least the doctor was aware of what was going on with him, and was prepared to do something about it.

He went to the drug store, and turned in his scripts, telling them he'd wait for them. He walked around, just observing the people and the merchandise. Things sure had changed over the years, drugstore-wise. This one had everything, cosmetics, photo department, food, and even clothes. Not to mention the drugs.

Walking down the one of the aisles, Bobby saw something, which he immediately picked up. _This is perfect for Alex,_ he thought.

After his prescriptions were ready Bobby paid for them and the little item for Alex, and went home. Later, he took one of each of his meds and went to bed in a fairly good mood. Tomorrow might be different, after talking to Deakins, but for tonight he felt good.

And when he woke up later with a nightmare, at least he didn't hurt so bad physically.

XxXx

When Alex arrived at work the next day, she didn't see her partner. She knew he was there, though, by the appearance of the brown leather binder on Bobby's desk. But she could hear someone in Deakins office with him, and just assumed it was Bobby. Then she noticed the package on her own desk. It had a little bow on it.

It was a small package of ground coffee--dark roast Colombian Starbucks coffee--Alex's favorite, with a note._ Sorry it's not quite the same,_ _but it's the next best thing I could do. Thanks for always being there for me—Bobby._

Thinking of her thoughtful partner, Alex smiled. He was right, she _would_ always be there for him. And that was a good thing, because there was a good chance that in the distant future he was going to need all the support he could get.

tbc


	3. Chapter 3

Warning for language.

Counterplay Chapter 3

"You and Eames have a case," Deakins told Bobby. They were alone. Deakins had just arrived at the bullpen.

Bobby looked up at him from his desk. "What? I thought I was on restricted duty?"

"You are."

Bobby spread his hands, palms up in front of him. "So…?"

"So I'm going with you for the next few weeks."

"What?" Bobby sputtered. "You…You're going with us? You think I need a fucking babysitter?"

Deakins braced himself. "In my office. Now."

Bobby followed Deakins into the office and immediately started pacing. He was furious. "Just what the hell is it you seem to think I can't handle?"

"It's orders from upstairs, Goren. Major Case's solve rate has gone down dramatically since you've been gone. They want you on the case. But they're worried, Bobby. It hasn't been that long since you were, uh—"

"Assaulted? All this because I got beat up?"

"You were more than beat up, Bobby. They tortured you and nearly killed you. You were locked up for over six months, under constant threat everyday. The brass thinks nine weeks is too short a time for a complete recovery, mentally or physically."

"So I'm good enough to solve cases, but I can't be trusted to be on my own? Suppose I refuse?" Bobby challenged.

Deakins did not like being put on the spot, and rose to the challenge. "Then consider yourself on suspension."

Bobby stared at Deakins. "So, is that how you want to play it?" 

"C'mon, Bobby, don't make this anymore difficult than it already is. We _don't_ have to play it this way. All they want is to have me observe you for a while, make sure you—"

"Don't fuck it first time I'm out on a case? Do they think after one bad experience I would lose it? Like I'm some kind of a basket case now?" He was still angry. Bobby turned as if to leave.

"Okay, Goren, that's enough!" Now Deakins was getting angry. "You walk out that door and you're—"

"What? What were you going to say?"

"Just sit your ass down and listen. I said _Sit._ _Down._ That's a god damn order!"

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As Alex waited for her partner to return from Deakins office, it became all too obvious that things were not going well, as evidenced by the shouting match coming from inside there. She wasn't alone in hearing it, all around her heads were popping up, listening. Some of those heads were shaking. There were the usual murmurs:

"It's that psycho Goren again," "Why does Deakins put up with him?" and so on.

Finally Alex couldn't take it any more. "Maybe it's because he's the best cop in the whole police department!" she snarled, turning on them. "He could solve rings around any one of you and you know it! He's—"

"Yo, Alex," Mike Logan put his arm around her shoulder, turning her back again. "Don't worry about them; they're just jealous," he said, looking deliberately at them. "While Goren was gone they thought they were big shit, getting all the big cases. What they failed to realize," and here he spoke even louder, "was that they couldn't solve half of them, and our solve rate is now the lowest it's ever been."

Alex couldn't help a little smirk, and those same heads were now dropping back down to their own unsolvable cases.

"Maybe later," Logan continued, rubbing it in, "if you ask pretty, Goren will help you all out with a few clues." That merely garnered him some dirty looks.

"Logan, that's enough," Alex said in a near whisper. "Defending him is a one thing, making more enemies for him is another."

"Okay, okay. If you or Bobby need anything, let me know."

"We will," she promised.

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Bobby took a deep breath, and finally sat down.

"Good," Deakins said. _Why does he have to be so damn pig-headed,_ he wondered. "Now first thing. What the hell is wrong with your arm? And don't even try playing any of your psyche games with me. You try any of your shit and you'll be riding a desk till hell freezes over! I don't give a shit if you are my best detective!"

"I wasn't planning to. In fact, if you had given me any chance at all, I was going to tell you. It's…messed up."

"No shit. Details...?"

"Uh, it never healed right."

"And just why the hell not? Cause you never let it heal properly!" he was yelling now, answering his own question. "You were so goddamed anxious to get back to work, you fucked it up royally! Look at you! You can't even move it! And what about your counseling? Are you even going?"

"Yes. I am going," Bobby said evenly, through gritted teeth. "Not that it's doing any damn good." Then he exploded. "You wanna know the truth? I AM messed up! I have goddamed fucking nightmares every damn night, and they scare the shit out of me! I haven't slept right in weeks! Why the hell do you think I'm in here so damned early every day? Cause I enjoy the freaking company? And my arm is fucked, too. I am in so much pain everyday I can't stand it! My doctor's got me on one of the strongest painkillers out there, and I've got two weeks. And if it isn't better by then it's more surgery. More surgery!" He finally calmed down, head in hands, elbows on table.

After a moment he looked up, running his fingers through his hair. He looked so despondent that Deakins actually felt bad for coming down on him.

"Bobby…" he laid his hand gently on his shoulder. "All I ever wanted is for you to talk to me, to let me know what's going on with you…"

"I…I was afraid," Bobby said, his voice a near whisper. "I was afraid I'd lose my job. If you, or the brass, thought I wasn't 100 percent, exactly what you just threatened would happen. I'd be riding a desk for now on, _if_ I got to keep my job at all, after what happened. You know the big boys upstairs, they've always had questions about me."

Deakins sighed, sitting down at his desk. "I get what you're saying. I know you've got a reputation for being a bit of a renegade, and, uh, shall we say, a little unorthodox in your methods. And so does the brass upstairs. But, despite what you and everyone else think, the boys upstairs aren't entirely stupid. They know a good thing when they see one. I don't think even they are stupid enough to get rid of their best detective. Have you seen our solve rate lately? They have, and so have their bosses, and so has the mayor. They _want_ you back on the job, they want the best we've got." He sighed again. "They just want to make sure that you are okay, that you don't have some kind of flashback or something, or lose it and—"

"Hurt someone? Embarrass the department?" Bobby asked.

"Do something that could possibly affect your job permanently," Deakins continued. "So they've asked me to keep an eye on you for just a few weeks." _Just in case he does do something_ _that can reflect back badly on the NYPD_, he thought disgustedly. He looked at Bobby for a reaction.

"Bobby?" 

"Just for a few weeks? Is that it?"

Deakins nodded. "Just a few weeks, that's it."

"Then I'm back on full active duty?"

"Then we re-evaluate. Chances are, that'll be the case."

In the end, Bobby agreed. He really didn't have a choice.

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"So how'd it go?" Alex looked up, almost dreading the answer.

"Well, the good news is, I've still got a job. The bad news is, Deakins is riding with us the next couple of weeks."

Both Goren and Eames truly liked and respected their captain, but nobody liked having their boss constantly looking over their shoulder.

Alex groaned. "Maybe it won't be so bad, maybe he'll actually be a help—"

"C'mon, Eames. You know he's babysitting me. It really pisses me off. And we don't need the help."

She smiled. "It won't be forever. Then things will be alright, it'll just be the two of us again, together, doing what we do best. And by the way, thank you for my little gift. I appreciate it. How'd you know that was my favorite?"

Bobby rolled his eyes. "Have you met me yet, Eames? Have we not been partners for the last thirty years?" he exaggerated.

She looked at him and laughed. "Only seems like twenty-five to me, partner."

"I'm getting kind of hungry," Bobby said, changing the subject back. "What do you say we go get some chow, and work on plans for losing Deakins?"

Alex chuckled. "Sounds good! Maybe we could like, bring him to the crime scene, and then forget to bring him back?"

Bobby laughed. "We've got all lunch to come up with some ideas. Sometime during that time I'm sure we can come up with a good strategy."

Alex smiled, watching her partner joking. It had been a long time. Maybe once McFadden's trial, and Bobby's testimony, was over, things would finally begin to return to normal.

tbc


	4. Chapter 4

Counterplay chapter 4 

The following two weeks were going by quickly, there was no shortage of cases to work on. Bobby's mind was somewhat distracted by the pain in his shoulder, but it didn't stop him from performing his job, although there were days when he doubled up on the pain pills. He knew better, but sometimes it was just too much.

It appeared that the antibiotics were at least working, some of the swelling had gone down, but even with the pills he was in constant pain, calling off work one of those days, attempting to kill some of the pain with a little Scotch.

Then he got the results back from the x-rays. Unbelievably, he had a severe rotator cuff tear that had gone undiagnosed due to the extent and severity of his other injures. There was no way around it, the tear was too extreme, and surgery would be required. Getting the news, Bobby groaned. "Why is it I can never seem to catch a break?" he asked.

"Look at it this way, Bobby," his doctor told him. "Once you have the surgery, it'll all be over. Of course there will be a little pain involved with the surgery, there always is. But after all that you've been through, this will be a piece of cake. Then in a few weeks you'll be good to go."

"Let's do it," Bobby said, hoping to God this would fix his problem. "Set it up."

The surgery was scheduled to be performed in two weeks. By that time, the swelling and inflammation should be under control enough to be able to go in. Not to mention the fact that the doctor's schedule was full.

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The first days on the job with Deakins were very tense. No one said much in the car. About the only thing they talked about was where to eat. It was obvious to all that Bobby's shoulder was hurting, but it was like the elephant in the room, nobody mentioned it.

Deakins kept a sharp eye on Bobby, watching for anything out of the ordinary. But so far, Bobby was impeccable in performing his job, even under the scrutiny of his boss. In fact, Deakins was rather impressed; he'd worked with Bobby in the past, but it had been a while. Now he remembered why Bobby was so good. Then Bobby did his usual thing, and sniffed the body. Deakins had forgotten about that, and frowned and scrunched up his nose. Bobby looked up, catching him. Deakins looked embarrassed, and shrugged, palms out. "Whatever works," he mouthed.

Their first crime scene was tough, though. The man had been horribly beaten, sodomized, and gut-shot, apparently left to die a very slow death.

"You okay?" Alex asked, concerned.

Bobby looked at her. "Of course. Why wouldn't I be?" he asked sharply.

"No reason," Alex replied.

Then Bobby noticed Deakins was watching him. _Damn!_ "I AM FINE," he said evenly.

Deakins just nodded.

They solved that first case in record time. Turned out it was a hit put out on him by his angry wife, tired of beatings, forced sex and being imprisoned in her own home. Bobby seemed to be really "on", and he was burying himself in his work. In a way, it was very therapeutic, it helped take his mind off his troubles, although the way the man died, having been sodomized, played heavily on his mind. Of all the cases they could've started with…

Their next case had Bobby and Alex physically chasing their suspects down a long alleyway. Jimmy Deakins huffed and puffed trying to keep up, and finally came upon the partners as they were cuffing their alleged perps. Bobby had a little difficulty with his shoulder, but still managed to get the suspect cuffed. Deakins was completely out of breath, bent over with hands on knees, trying to get a breath.

Bobby stood there, cocking his head, with just the slightest hint of smugness on his face. "_Well, did I pass?"_ the look seemed to say.

"We've still got a long way to go, Bobby," Deakins told him, still catching his breath.

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Office of Doctor Ron Steward, Psychiatry

"You can come back now, Bobby," Doctor Steward said, stepping back to allow Bobby to enter. Bobby went straight to Steward's office, and paced a bit. Steward followed him in.

So far Bobby had been somewhat lethargic concerning his therapy. He wasn't confident about it working. Nightmares had been a part of his life since he was a child; he considered himself a done deal, and in fact was only going to therapy because he had to.

"Sit," Steward said, indicating the usual patient chair, while he sat opposite him.

"So how was your week?"

"Same as last week," Bobby said emotionlessly. "Same as _every_ week."

"So what's that about?"

"What do you mean, 'what's that about?' It's about the same fucking thing every week. I have the same dream, over and over, and it's not getting any better."

"You sound depressed," Steward observed.

"Really?" Bobby said sarcastically. "I see now why they--I--pay you the big bucks. What is it, a hundred an hour? To tell me I'm _depressed?_"

The doctor chuckled. "Maybe _you_ should have gone into psychiatry. So why are you so depressed?"

Bobby looked at him incredulously. "Why the hell do you think? Every goddamn week--twice a week--we go over the same shit. Over and over! And I'm still having the same fucking nightmares I've been having for the past three months!"

"The same one?"

"Yeah. You _know_ that. Why are you even asking?"

"Tell me about it."

"What? You didn't catch it the first ten or twelve times I told you?"

"I want you to tell me again."

Bobby sighed, and went on, merely to indulge the doctor so he could get done and go home, where a nice cold beer was waiting with his name on it. "I told you! I'm in jail, I'm locked in, and a bunch of them are coming. I try to get out, I'm desperate, I keep trying, but the cell is locked. Then they are here, and they…uh…"

"What did they do?"

"What the hell? You know all this! Why--" Something occurred to him. "You're getting off on this, aren't you, you son of a bitch!"

"Bobby—"

"No! What the fuck do you do when I leave, you sick son of a bitch? Go in the men's room and jack off?"

There was no stopping him now, and the doctor let Bobby continue on his tirade, accusing the doctor of everything from not helping him to overcharging him, including using Bobby as a means of feeding his own self serving sexual needs, until Bobby finally exhausted himself. Then he sank into the chair opposite Steward.

"Feel better now?" Steward asked, in what seemed to Bobby almost a bored tone.

Bobby glared at him. "Yeah, as a matter of fact I do."

"Good. Now I'll say this just once, and I won't say it again. Your behavior in here is completely unacceptable. You can rant in here, you can rage in here all you want, on McFadden, jail, the entire NYPD, anything, I don't give a shit. This is your safe place to do that. But you will not berate me, and you will not berate yourself. That is not acceptable. I will not allow it. Is that clear?"

Bobby sat there, still glaring.

"If you continue with this behavior you will find yourself looking for a new therapist. Is that clear?"

Bobby sighed. "Yeah, it's clear," he mumbled, still a little upset with his doctor, but realizing the doctor was right. He _had_ gone off on him pretty bad.

"Good. And now that you've vented some of that anger and gotten it all out of your system, are you ready to really begin working now? I mean _really_ _working?"_

"Yeah, I'm ready," he stated, anxious now to get started. Then he got a shit-eating grin on his face. "But I really did enjoy it, you know. Venting about you is always a pleasure."

Steward suppressed a smile. "Yeah, I know. A lot of patients say that. By the way, you did good today, Bobby."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As Bobby and Alex were finishing up paperwork on their last case, Deakins opened the door to his office.

"Goren." He said it softly, but loud enough for them to hear. "Could I see you in my office? You, too, Alex."

The two partners glanced at each other. _What now?_ They thought together.

They trudged their way into his office, expecting the worst. Deakins looked uncomfortable, and both of them automatically assumed it had something to do with Bobby's job performance, although they couldn't imagine what.

"Look," Bobby started, "if it's about the way I—"

"It's not your job."

"Then what is it?" Alex asked.

"Sit down. Please, both of you." Again they looked at each other, sitting down slowly, watching their captain.

"Bobby, it's Luke. He's dead."

Bobby stared at him for a second, then dropped his head into his hands. "Oh, God…"

Luke had been one of the inmates who participated in the horrendous beating Bobby took while at Rikers. He was also the one who ultimately saved his life, when he balked at actually murdering him, causing the inmates to turn on him. He was beaten and sodomized in the way they had intended for Bobby. Bobby had escaped the sodomy, but had nearly died from the beating.

"How?" Bobby asked hoarsley. It was obvious how badly this was affecting him.

"Another infection, on top of the others. This one was a staph infection…they couldn't stop it."

"Oh, God…" Bobby repeated.

Alex, although sorry that Luke had died, didn't have the same feeling for him that Bobby did, continuing to believe that everything that had happened to Luke was of his own doing. Bobby, on the other hand, felt he owed a tremendous debt to him, that had it not been for Luke he would have suffered the same fate. And having been a victim of a horrible assault, he had empathized with Luke completely. Bobby was devastated.

Alex went to Bobby, and put her arms around him. "Bobby…"

Bobby's dark eyes were bright with pain. "He…he died, because—"

"No!" Alex was suddenly angry. "Don't you dare take this on yourself! This is _not_ your fault!"

Bobby didn't argue, didn't say anything.

Alex softened, then spoke gently to him. "Bobby…please. We've been over this all before, when it happened. It is sad that this happened, even sadder now that he's dead, but Bobby, _he_ attacked _you_! If he hadn't gone along with those others, he'd be alive now."

"But—"

"She's right, Bobby—" Deakins started.

"He saved my life!" Bobby snarled, upset that no one could see that. "He changed his mind, he no longer wanted to continue the assault, and they turned on him!" Now Bobby's voice was soft. "They were going to sodomize me, and did it to him instead."

"And they were still going to do it to you, if help hadn't arrived. All Luke did was buy you time."

"Whatever he did, he saved my life." Bobby got up, went to get his binder, and left. Deakins and Eames stared after him.

Deakins sighed, shaking his head. "This is bad. Not only will this set Bobby back, but it changes everything."

Alex knitted her brow and looked at him. Deakins continued. "When Bobby has to testify against McFadden? It will be more than assault with a deadly weapon on a police officer. Now Bobby will also have to testify against McFadden for murder."

tbc


	5. Chapter 5

Counterplay Chapter 5 

"Luke was a troubled young man who once was lost, but like the prodigal son had returned. Now Luke is in the loving hands of the Lord. Let us pray."

Bobby watched from the back of the church as the pastor spoke the last words over Luke's casket, and watched as Luke's father supported his mother, who seemed on the verge of collapsing. There were very few mourners, ten at the most, and it saddened Bobby very much to think that Luke would go to his final resting place so alone.

Later, at the cemetery, as Bobby pulled the collar up on his coat, he wondered why it was that whenever there was a funeral, that was the day it rained and turned bitterly cold? At least that was the way it seemed. The sky overhead had turned nearly black, the rain had turned to sleet, and the wind howled. "Perfect," he thought miserably.

The irony was that it _was_ perfect, for him anyway. It was one small way of assuaging his guilt, punishing himself, for what he perceived as his part in Luke's death. The colder it got, the more miserable he became. The more miserable he was, the better he liked it. He'd actually been there for some time, long before the small group arrived. Right now his hair was frozen, and his feet were so cold they were throbbing, turning numb, and that felt good to his tortured soul, too.

He had been advised to stay away from Luke's funeral, but chose to go anyway, staying off by himself, far removed from the few who came to mourn for Luke. He really had no desire to associate with any of Luke's family, knowing they probably despised him. After all, he was the one who had originally arrested Luke, back in his narcotics days. And he was the one for whom Luke was sacrificed. He tried to be as invisible as possible.

After the pastor said the last words over Luke's casket, the small group turned to go. Then he heard a voice calling out, and turned around to see an older man and woman approaching, while two younger ones waited by their own car. Bobby took a deep breath and braced himself for what was to come. Whatever it was, he would take it, he deserved everything or anything they threw at him, and whatever it was, it wouldn't be enough.

The woman looked at him, her face wet with what Bobby could only assume was a mixture of tears and rain. He waited.

"Th-thank you for coming," she sobbed. Bobby nodded, tears welling up in his own eyes again.

"I'm so sorry…" he whispered.

"Our Luke," the old man continued, "he wasn't really a bad boy."

"I-I know."

"Luke, he told us…what you did."

Bobby closed his eyes, here it came. "I'm so sorry, I never—"

"Thank you for trying to help…Luke…" Luke's mother broke down and couldn't go on. The father continued for her again. "Not many people went out of their way for our boy."

Bobby stared at them for a second, then he lost it, and cried into his hands. To his great surprise, Luke's parents put their arms around him, comforting _him_. "I…_Please_, tell me if there is something---anything—I can do…" Luke's father nodded at him, then put his arms gently around his wife, leading her away. They both glanced at him one more time, murmuring "thank you" again. Then they were gone.

Bobby stood there in the sleet, watching as the small group made their way out of the cemetery. He had no idea how long he stayed, just stood there looking into the distance as the men lowered the casket into the ground. Then finally, more cold and miserable than he'd ever been in his life, he got in his own car to go home.

Back at One Police Plaza, Alex sat at her desk, basically busying herself with catch-up projects. She and Bobby had originally planned on interviewing some suspects for their current case, but with the funeral that Bobby had insisted on attending, that was put on hold. She looked out one of the windows, which were now glazing over with ice. What a miserable day, she thought. She wondered how her partner was faring, and decided to give him a call.

Her partner wasn't faring well at all. The extreme cold aggravated his shoulder, making it hurt unbearably. His body felt cold, through and through. He heard the phone ringing in the living room and picked it up. "Goren."

"Hey, Bobby, how ya doing? Are you okay?"

"Nothing that a few pain pills and some scotch won't cure."

"Bobby…

"Yeah, I know. Don't worry, I'll be okay. Why can't you get it that I will be okay, that I'm a big boy now—"

"Why can't _you_ get it that I care? Never mind. Fine, Bobby. Just go easy on the pills and booze, okay? Before you end up killing yourself."

No matter what Bobby did, he couldn't seem to get warm. The cold had gone straight through him and stayed. After a bit he got down the scotch, and knowing better than to mix pills with booze, but doing it anyway, downed the last of the scotch, the booze lighting a fire in his throat and belly. Thirty seconds later it was gone, and it hadn't warmed him a bit. He went and laid on the couch, focusing his thoughts on Luke, McFadden, and the upcoming trial. He hated McFadden more than ever, not just for what was done to him, but now for what was done to Luke. And he couldn't wait for the trial.

Between the pain pills and the alcohol, Bobby soon drifted off to sleep. He was sorry for that; almost immediately he started dreaming. And like every other time, 'they' got him. He woke up in a near panic attack.

As it turned out, the prosecuting attorney would be ADA Jack McCoy. Bobby was pleased, he remembered McCoy as being fair, but tough. And he wanted McCoy to be tough with McFadden. This case had the potential to lock him up for a good twenty years before there would even be a _consideration_ of parole. Yeah, Bobby wanted McCoy to be _really_ tough with McFadden.

Finally the day of Bobby's surgery arrived, and he had to admit to being both excited and anxious. Excited because it would mean, with any luck at all, his shoulder would be healed, hopefully with no ill side effects. Anxious because he had been through enough surgery, and was sick to death of doctors, hospitals, pain, and the feelings of helplessness he associated with surgery.

Thinking back on it, he realized he had come a long way in ten weeks. Most of his injuries had healed; his bruises had faded, his broken nose was healed about as well as a broken nose can heal. His left hand and shoulder were doing great, thank God.. Physical therapy had helped there immensely. The injuries still plaguing him were his ribs, which were still a little tender, his right arm, which was now almost useless and left him in almost constant pain, and his left cheekbone, or what was left of it. Most of his cheekbone had been replaced with a thin metal plate and screws, and after ten weeks, with the swelling all down, it appeared to have had no effect on his appearance. He still looked like the same Bobby as before the beating. The one thing troublesome about his facial injury was the phantom pain that seemed to come and go. Every once in a while, out of the blue, his face would just suddenly start burning, like it was on fire, then ache for hours afterward. Hopefully in the coming months that would start to ease for him, too. At least this surgery would take care of one of those problems.

Alex was going to be there with Bobby for the duration. He was all prepped, and sitting up on a gurney waiting to be wheeled into the operating room. An IV was attached to his arm, they were just waiting for the nurse.

"Y'know," Bobby said, "I am a _little_ nervous about this."

"I know, of course you are, everyone is nervous about surgery. You don't hold the corner on that one."

"Yeah, it's just that over the last year I haven't had a lot of good luck…"

"Well, that's all going to change," Alex promised him.

Deciding to be a little upbeat, Bobby teased her. "So, how'd you get to be the lucky one to get to spend the day here with me in the hospital?"

Alex gave it right back to him. "It wasn't so much _good_ luck…The captain, Lewis, Mike and I all drew straws, and I got the short one. That's the way _my_ luck goes."

They both laughed, and it felt really good to release a little tension. Alex was especially happy to see Bobby laugh. They were interrupted as a nurse came in.

"Are you ready?" she asked, and without even giving him time to answer, pulled out a syringe and emptied it into his IV. "It's just a little something to help you relax. They'll be here for you in a couple of minutes." Then she was gone as quickly as she came in.

The effects were almost immediate. "Uh…I gotta lay…down." Alex helped him lay back. Two orderlies came in, and started to move the gurney.

"Al-ex?" Bobby asked.

"I'm right here, Bobby," she said. Bobby reached for her hand.

"I…love you…Al…" Bobby was slurring his words.

Alex smiled down at him. "I know you do, Bobby. I love you, too." She released his hand at the double doors leading to the operating room.

"You can wait in there," the orderly told her, indicating a surgical waiting room. "They'll call you with an update."

Alex nodded, and watched as they all went through the double doors. _Poor Bobby,_ she thought. _This surgery had better go right._

Three hours and four magazines later, the telephone in the waiting room finally rang.

Alex looked up, watching as an elderly volunteer answered. "For Mr. Goren…?"

Alex moved faster than she had in months, nearly snatching the phone out of her hand.

"Yes?"

"Is this for Mr. Goren? This is Kathy, one of the surgical nurses. Doctor Springer asked me to tell you that that Robert came through the surgery just fine. They'll be taking Robert to recovery, and Doctor Springer will speak to you in a few minutes."

"Thank you," Alex said softly, then handed the phone to the volunteer.

_Thank God! Maybe now things will start looking up for Bobby._

tbc


	6. Chapter 6

Counterplay Chapter 6

A/N Didn't mention this, but this all takes place around the time of Season 3.

Bobby's surgery went well. The doctors seemed to think that with proper care (meaning doing what he was told) and a lot of physical therapy he should be good as new. His arm was placed in a sling with a piece that went around his chest, with another piece attached to that put his arm in. And that would keep his shoulder immobile for the next six weeks. Again, it would be difficult to maneuver, but at least this time his dominant left hand and arm were healthy and unaffected. Somehow he would manage.

He would remain in the hospital for two more days. After that, he hoped to be free of hospitals forever.

Deakins and Alex were waiting when Bobby was returned to his room. Bobby was pretty out of it.

"It still amazes me that they missed all this the first time!" Alex groused, referring to Bobby's rotator cuff injury.

"Alex, there was so much other damage—" Deakins started.

"I don't care how much damage there was, they shouldn't have missed this! They're professionals! Or they're supposed to be! A severe rotator cuff tear is serious, and they let him go on like this for two and a half months!" Alex was furious.

"Okay, Eames," Bobby said wearily, "I'll sue them first chance I get." He was having trouble just staying awake, still groggy from the surgery and now the pain meds, and wasn't quite up for arguing about his doctors. He tried to adjust himself, trying to get comfortable. Giving up, he finally just settled in.

"We should probably go," Deakins said softly, motioning to Bobby. He was already asleep.

Alex immediately felt bad for having gone on like that in front of a wracked-up Bobby, but she was just so damn mad. All this extra pain for him! She went over to Bobby and reached her short slim body over the rails to his bed, and kissed the top of his head. "Have a good sleep, Bobby," she whispered.

oOo

Bobby was going to be off active duty for a minimum of six weeks, keeping his arm and shoulder immobile the whole time, then after that, some serious physical therapy. He would, however, be able to work doing deskwork, if he chose to, after the first two weeks. It was optional, his doctors actually had cleared him for the entire six weeks. But Bobby would go nuts hanging out alone in his apartment all that time. So, it was back to riding a desk again for him. And during his off time, he would be meeting with Jack McCoy.

Jack McCoy was a no-nonsense ADA, one of the most prominent in the city, and he didn't like James McFadden. To him, McFadden was a blight on society, with no redeeming qualities at all. He'd been in and out of prison for the past fifteen years, since the age of eighteen and had a long history of violence. He also apparently had no conscience, he'd never shown the slightest bit of remorse for any of his crimes, and in fact seemed to derive the most pleasure when he could inflict any type of pain onto the victims of his crimes. McCoy was anxious to put this guy away under normal circumstances, but, in injuring Bobby, McFadden had injured one of their own, making McCoy all the more ready to put him away, for good.

McCoy and Bobby's first meeting started out fairly normal.

When Bobby first arrived at McCoy's office, instead of shaking hands (Bobby's being in a sling) they merely nodded to each other.

"How are you feeling, Detective?" McCoy asked, ushering Bobby into a chair.

"What, this?" Bobby asked, indicating his arm. "This is okay, still hurts some. Not nearly as much as it did."

"That's good. What about your other injuries? I understand you took a pretty bad beating?"

"For the most part, okay. It was a rough…time." Bobby hesitated a little, feeling somewhat ashamed for having been beaten.

McCoy noticed the little pause. "First thing, Detective, we're going to be totally honest with each other. And I have to tell you, I'm a little hesitant about putting you on the stand."

Bobby looked shocked, then angry. "Why?" He demanded. "I've testified hundreds of times on the stand and I think--"

"You weren't the victim in those other cases, Detective Goren!"

"What's that got to do with it?"

"In your case, two things. First of all, as I said, you were a victim in this case—"

"And what? Victims don't testify?"

"Yes, victims testify. But you're still raw. And you've got a temper. I don't want to lose this case because a cop with a temper got beat up."

Bobby was about to lose it, then suddenly stopped, not wishing to prove McCoy right. "Ok, I admit, I do have… um… a temper, but I am a professional. I can handle it," he said through gritted teeth. "And, I'm the only eyewitness you've got."

"That's the only reason I'm letting you testify."

Bobby just looked at him.

"You were somewhat hesitant when I mentioned your beating."

Bobby got a little red. "It's not something I'm proud of."

McCoy studied him for a moment. "It was something that was totally out of your control. Is that what bothers you about this? That you had no control over what was happening to you?"

"That…and what they did to Luke, and were just starting to do with with me before they were stopped."

"If I put you on the stand, you'll have to testify to that."

"I know, and I'm ready to do that."

McCoy considered this. "Alright." Like he had a choice. As Bobby said, he was the only eyewitness. "You know, Detective Goren…Bobby, there is no shame in what happened to you."

Bobby stared at him. _Yeah, right._ "Yeah? I'm 6'4", and I'm a cop, and they took me down!"

"They took you down precisely because you _are_ a cop. Being 6'4" doesn't help much when you're outnumbered, and your hands are tied behind your back. I don't think there was much you could do."

"And that makes me a victim—again."

It was McCoy's turn to stare. "I don't know what other problems you're dealing with, Detective. Perhaps you should take that up with your therapist, assuming you have a therapist. You _do_ have a therapist?" Bobby nodded, and McCoy continued. "All I want you to do is testify as to what happened, and that's all. You will not communicate with McFadden on any level. Don't even make eye contact. It could prove detrimental to both you and the case. You will simply testify, and not say another word. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Sir," Bobby lied, not really appreciating McCoy too much at the moment. He had no intention of giving McFadden the satisfaction of cowing down to him.

oOo

The next couple of weeks went by slowly. Bobby was extremely anxious to testify; he wanted McFadden to go down badly. Laying on his couch one night, he began to seriously wonder about himself. He couldn't remember ever hating anyone like he hated McFadden, and he sort of wondered what he would do if McFadden beat this, and was out in a few years. He thought about everything McFadden had done to him. Something he'd done that hadn't even left a permanent injury bothered him the most. That was when McFadden had forced him to the ground, face down, his arms tied up behind him, a rag in his mouth, making it extremely difficult to breathe with a broken nose. Then he put the ammonia in his nose. He couldn't breathe at all then, his entire left side of his face smashed, his nose broken, and the ammonia burning up his nose. McFadden had watched, laughing as Bobby panicked, thrashed, trying to dislodge the gag, desperately trying to get a breath. Then just as blackness came over him, McFadden removed the gag. He wasn't done with Bobby yet, he was to suffer more.

Bobby shuddered. He couldn't get over that feeling, of not being able to breathe, knowing that that was how he was going to die. McFadden had just enjoyed it too much, and had actually told him that was how he was going to kill him. _After_ McFadden was through with him. The stuff nightmares are made of.

And it _really_ scared Bobby how much he hated that guy.

So, no, there was no way in hell McFadden could beat this. He _had_ to be put away for a long, long time. And Bobby was determined to make that happen.

The Trial

Bobby looked impressive as he waited on the steps to the courthouse. It was another nasty day, the wind whipped through his hair and his open trench coat swirled around him. If anything, it made him look even taller. He was a very commanding figure.

Once Bobby was in the courtroom, the tension between him and McFadden was obvious, the hostility emanated from both to the point where the entire courtroom could feel it. McFadden glared at Goren. Goren glared at McFadden. And McCoy glared at them both. It promised to be an interesting trial.

tbc


	7. Chapter 7

Counterplay Chapter 7 

Alex joined Bobby in the back row, waiting for his turn to testify. While they listened to the proceedings, McFadden made a point of looking around and staring at Bobby. He knew that of all the witnesses, Bobby's testimony would be the most damaging, and the look he was giving Bobby was nothing short of threatening.

"Geez, Bobby," Alex whispered, "if looks could kill…"

He didn't need her to continue. If by some quirk of fate McFadden got off, Bobby knew they'd be finding his body parts for years to come. It did not deter him in the least, McFadden was going down for this.

Bobby nodded towards the jury, drawing Alex's attention to them. They were watching McFadden watching Bobby. It was impossible for them not to see the look, not to mention McFadden mouthing the words "You're dead."

_He's digging his own grave,_ Bobby thought.

After what seemed like hours, and actually it was, it was time for his testimony.

"The state calls Robert Goren." As Bobby was sworn in, he could feel McFadden's eyes literally boring holes in him,

"State your name and occupation."

"Robert O. Goren. I am a detective first grade with the New York Police Department's Major Case Squad."

Now McCoy was questioning him. "And how long have you been a detective with the Major Case Squad?"

"Six years."

"And before that?"

"I spent four years in Narcotics."

"And how did you happen to become acquainted with Mr. McFadden?"

"I first became acquainted with Mr. McFadden when I was with Narcotics. I ran a major drug sting and he was one of the principles arrested. He was convicted and sentenced to ten years."

"And were there bad feelings between Mr. McFadden and you, specifically?"

"Beings I was the one in charge, yes. He blamed me, swore he'd get back at me some time."

"And recently? How did you and he come into contact with one another?"

"Uh, I was arrested on charges of killing Nicole Wallace, and sent to Rikers to await trial. It was a set-up, I later was cleared of all charges."

"And what happened to you while you were at Rikers?" McCoy asked matter-of-factly.

Bobby hesitated, gathering his thoughts. He glanced at McFadden, he could swear McFadden's eyes were blood red, on fire, and burning right into him. He was determined not to let McFadden and his threats prevent him from accomplishing his goal. If anything, it made him more determined. He resolved, through with all of this, that McFadden would no longer be the cause of his nightmares; that McFadden would no longer hold any power over him. He continued on doggedly.

"When I was sent to Rikers, being a police detective I was placed in protective custody. Which was anything _but_." Bobby couldn't help the bitterness that crept into his voice as he remembered just how unprotected he had really been. "The entire time I was in Rikers the guards abused me, one in particular. But the worse thing was he was always telling me that they were coming for me, everyday, and telling me what they were going to do to me."

"And who specifically were 'they'?"

"The inmates. I didn't know specifically until they got to my cell."

"And then you recognized your assailants?"

"Yes. They were Harley Wilcox, Jose Gonzalez, Arnold Rutgers, Luke Martin, Jimmy Snowden, and the guard, Lenny Sanders. And the leader, James McFadden."

McCoy looked directly into Bobby's eyes. "And what were they going to do to you, Detective?"

Bobby didn't look away, just stared back at McCoy. "They were going to beat me half to death, torture me, sodomize me, and then murder me."

"Objection!" the defense attorney declared. "Hearsay."

McCoy looked incredulous. "I hardly think what was done to Detective Goren was 'hearsay!' I'll rephrase: Detective Goren, what exactly _did_ happen to you on the day in question?"

Bobby looked grim. "One night it finally happened. They all came to my cell, seven or eight, and a guard. Between them they managed to force me to the ground, and duct-taped my hands behind my back. They gagged me. Then they twisted my arms up behind me, so far I could feel the inside of my shoulders just ripping. (A murmur went through the courtroom) I was screaming, but with the gag, I couldn't make a sound, then there was this horrible jerking and my shoulders were dislocated. Next thing I knew they forced me to my knees and McFadden was screaming at the guard to hit me. I saw him raise his arm with that billy club and pull back. Then he slammed it into my face, and that was it for me."

"What injuries did you sustain, Detective?"

"My left cheekbone was completely shattered, and had to be replaced with a metal plate and screws (Another murmur from the crowded courtroom).I have to go for checkups regularly to make sure things are as they should be."

"And are they?"

"Except for the pain, yes. So far."

"How long were you unconscious?"

"I don't know. Not long, I guess. McFadden woke me up so he could continue to beat me. He, uh, put ammonia in my nose. With the gag, I couldn't breathe, he let me choke until I passed out again. When he finally let me breathe again he said this was how he would eventually kill me. Then he set the others on me again."

"In all, what injuries did you receive?"

Bobby recited them off like a list. "A concussion, shattered cheekbone, broken nose, four broken ribs, two dislocated shoulders, torn tendons and ligaments, rotator cuff injury, bruised kidneys, cuts and bruises to my entire body. I just recently had surgery to repair this shoulder," he told them, explaining the sling."

McCoy continued on. "What happened just before you passed out again?"

Bobby looked uncomfortable, dropping his eyes momentarily, but enough for McFadden to notice and smile.

"After they'd beaten me about as much as they could before I passed out again, they, uh, they tried to sodomize me with a broken broomstick. McFadden was over me yanking at my pants when Luke suddenly refused to go any further. McFadden was furious that he rebelled, and they turned on Luke, and did it to him. I remember trying to scream to stop them, but I lost consciousness again. I woke up in the hospital. I was told they were about to start in on me again when other guards arrived and stopped everything."

"And Luke? What happened to him?"

Bobby couldn't help it, tears welled up in his eyes. "Luke…he, he died. From an infection caused by his being sodomized." A sob hitched in his throat. "He tried to save me, and he died." Bobby looked straight at McFadden. "He killed him."

"Are you positive it was James McFadden?"

"One hundred percent." Bobby was still staring at McFadden.

"Thank you, Detective." McCoy turned and went back to the prosecution table.

The defense attorney, Charles Rivers, approached Bobby for the cross-examination.

"Detective Goren," he started sympathetically, "it sounds like you've had a pretty rough time of it."

"Yes. I did."

"Detective, you said you were in and out of consciousness…how many times?"

"I don't know. I wasn't counting." A few snickers went through the courtroom.

"Of course you weren't counting," Rivers continued. "But, if you had to guess, would you say three? Four?"

"I don't know. Maybe that many."

"So Detective, if you were unconscious a good deal of the time, and, as you state, had a concussion, how could you be sure of _anything_ that was going on around you?"

"I know what I saw!" Bobby said vehemently. "And I know what I felt! I was awake—"

"Uh, huh," Rivers said, moving back to his own table and picking up some papers. A moment later he came back to Bobby.

"So, actually Detective, you can't say for certain _what_ you saw."

"I know what happened! I saw McFa—" 

"Detective Goren. Is it possible that Mr. McFadden and the others, let's see…Jimmy Snowden, Harley Wilcox, Jose Gonzalez, Arnold Rutgers and Luke Martin merely came to your cell to scare you, put the fear of God in you, just to pay you back a little?"

Bobby was shocked, the whole scenario was outrageous. "**_Scare me?_** Yeah, they scared me, but they didn't 'scare' me into a shattered face!"

"Oh, yes, your shattered face…Isn't it true, Detective, that it was actually _you_ who threw the first punch, hitting that guard and inciting the whole incident?"

McCoy looked startled.

McFadden sneered.

And Bobby looked stricken. _Oh God…_"It…It wasn't like that…" Bobby said hoarsely.

"And isn't it a fact that it was Lennie Sanders, the guard, who actually shattered your face?"

"Yes, but—"

"Isn't it possible, Detective Goren, that with you being in and out of consciousness that you don't know for certain who injured you and killed Luke?"

"NO!" Bobby said firmly. "I know who it was—"

"That's all, Detective."

"It was McFadden!" Bobby said, nearly shouting.

"That's ALL, Detective."

McCoy stood up. "Redirect, Your Honor?" The judge agreed.

"Detective Goren, why did you hit the guard, Lennie Sanders?"

Bobby was angry. "Because they were going to kill me. They told me that. And I wasn't going down without a fight."

"You didn't think the inmates came there just to scare you?"

"They wouldn't have needed weapons to scare me. Just seeing them there would have been enough."

"They brought weapons with them? What kinds of weapons?"

"Two guys each had a shive. Sanders had his billy club. They had duct tape and a gag, and McFadden had a broken broomstick. They did not come there to 'scare' me."

"Thank you, Detective."

0O0

Later, in McCoy's office Jack lit into Bobby. "How could you have forgotten about hitting that guard, Detective?! That could blow our whole case if the jury thinks you incited the whole thing!"

Bobby said nothing. Finally McCoy said, "Hopefully the jury is smart enough to figure it out. We'll just have to wait and see."

After a few more days of testimony by others, and closing arguments, the jury finally retired. It wasn't long before they had a decision. McCoy called Bobby, and he and Alex returned to the courtroom, taking a seat near the front behind McCoy, to await the verdict.

"On the first count of assault with a deadly weapon on an officer of the law, how do you find?"

"We find the defendant, James McFadden, guilty," the jury foreman announced. McFadden seemed shocked at the decision; and turned and glared at Bobby. Bobby looked right at him, just the slightest hint of a smile on his face.

"On the second count of murder in the second degree, how do you find?"

"We find the defendant, James McFadden, guilty."

McCoy turned to Bobby, putting his hand on Bobby's shoulder. "We did it, Detective, thank you. It was your testimony that put us over."

"Thank _you_," Bobby said. "I'm just glad that bastard's off the street."

"I'll let you know when the sentencing hearing is."

Bobby nodded, and with Alex, turned to leave the courtroom, when there was an unexpected commotion. Bobby turned just in time to see the bailiffs grab and restrain McFadden, who had tried to get to Bobby, making a sudden lunge for him.

McFadden started screaming at Bobby, still being restrained. "You think this is over you fucking bastard?! You're wrong, you're dead, Goren! Dead!"

Now Bobby had to be restrained, by McCoy and anyone else; he was in McFadden's face, shouting back, while the judge banged his gavel, calling for order and for McFadden to be taken away.

Finally the two were separated as Bobby was hauled backwards and McFadden was hauled out of the courtroom. Bobby stood there, breathing hard, staring after them. Alex tried to turn him to leave, but Bobby wouldn't budge.

"C'mon, Bobby," Alex said, trying to push her big partner to the doors.

Bobby didn't move, still staring at the door where McFadden had last been seen. "He's right, Alex," Bobby murmured. "It'll never be over between us. Never. Not till one of us is dead."

tbc


	8. Chapter 8

Counterplay Chapter 8

"What did you mean earlier, it'll never be over between you two?" Alex asked, looking up from her second margarita. She and Bobby were at Corey's, a quiet little out of the way bar where they could sit and just talk. And celebrate the fact that James McFadden was convicted of assault with deadly force on a police officer and second degree murder. They were both in a fairly good mood, until now.

"Exactly what I said," Bobby answered a little peevishly. "It doesn't get much clearer than that."

"What I mean is, _why_ do you say that? How can it _not_ be over? He's been convicted, he's sitting in jail now, and the minimum he'll get is twenty years—"

"I don't know. He'll try something, he's got it in for me, you know that."

"Yes, but…" Something suddenly occurred to her. "Oh god, Bobby! You really think he'd put a hit out on you?'

"I'd be more surprised if he _didn't._ He's going to try something, whether it's a hit or not, and where it's coming from, I don't know. I just know it's coming."

Alex frowned. She wasn't entirely sure what to make of this. On the one hand, Bobby had been through a lot, and it would be totally understandable if he was a bit paranoid until things finally settled down, maybe after the sentencing hearing. On the other hand, Bobby had great instincts, and he was seldom wrong. But couldn't he be wrong just this once, and actually relax about things for a while?

"Bobby," she started, "you've still got a lot on your plate right now. Give yourself a break for a bit, and don't worry about McFadden, at least for tonight. He's done for. You need to concentrate on just healing yourself, and getting back to work full time. That's what you need."

"Yeah, you're right, I guess—"

"But not tonight! Tonight, we're partying! Whoohoo! Andrea! A few more rounds over here please!"

As Andrea brought Alex another margarita, and Bobby a shot and a beer, Bobby couldn't help smiling at his exuberant partner. She was right. Tonight they would party. Tomorrow he could start worrying about McFadden again.

0O0

Bobby may have forgotten about McFadden for the night, but McFadden hadn't forgotten about him. As he lay on his cot at Rikers, he, too, was smiling, but for different reasons. He was smiling because in his mind he was picturing Bobby dead, after suffering through a long and horrible ordeal. He didn't have a plan in mind for how to go about this yet, he was too busy just plain fantasizing. He'd work the details out later. Tonight, he, too, would enjoy himself. He would get off just thinking about what he could do to Bobby.

0O0

The next morning Bobby arrived for work on time, but barely dragged himself in. With his one arm in the sling he practically dropped Alex's coffee onto her desk, then went around and sat on his own side, taking a long drink of his coffee. Then he put his elbows on his desk, and held his head in his good hand, where he knew it would be safe. He had to protect his throbbing head at all costs.

Then Alex came in, looking not all that much better, and took a big swig of her coffee. "Thanks," she mumbled. Deakins watched all this from his office, shaking his own head. But after all their success yesterday, he gave them both a break. But not too much, they still had a job to do. They could get to feeling better on their own time.

After Bobby took some more aspirin and Alex had drunk her entire Starbucks coffee, she looked at him through bleary eyes. "Do you look as bad as you feel?"

Bobby stared at her, still holding his head. "What?"

"What I mean is, do you look as bad as I feel?"

Bobby smiled slightly. "What?"

"Dammit, Bobby! You know what I mean! Do you feel like shit, too!"

"Yes." It was all he could do not to laugh outright at her. She was so cute, but he knew better than to say that to her.

Before they could say anything else, they realized Deakins was there beside them. "Are you finished yet?" he asked a little sarcastically. "Cause if you are, we do have a case to work on." He dropped some papers on to Bobby's desk. "Here's the lab results you were waiting on. What are your plans for today?"

For the first time ever, Bobby wished they had nothing planned so they could stay in the office and nurse their wounds. "Uh, we _had_ planned on interviewing a few witnesses…"

Deakins narrowed his eyes. "And now?"

Bobby gathered his binder and jacket. "And now we're going to interview those witnesses." Alex sighed and gathered her own things. _Slave driver._

0O0 

Weeks later, back a 1PP, Alex and Bobby finished up their paperwork for the day. Deakins seemed pleased, their case was going well, their newest interviews had yielded good information. They were getting close to an arrest.

"I need a drink," Bobby said. Seeing the looks he was getting, he added, "Water. I need a drink of water." He got up and left the room.

"What do you think?" Deakins asked, "a little paranoid?"

"I wouldn't say that, exactly," Alex replied.

"Exactly what _would_ you say?" He wasn't going to let up.

Alex got defensive. "Okay, so he's got a few problems. Everyones got problems. I've got problems. You've got—"

"Alex!"

She sighed. "He _has _been acting a little paranoid lately. But it's not like he doesn't have reasons. You know the saying, 'Just because you're paranoid doesn't mean someone's not out to get you'."

"Yeah, I get that, Alex. So what does Bobby's shrink say?"

Alex looked at him. "God, if that shrink knew we all knew…anyway, Bobby says his shrink says, in effect, that until everything is finally settled and McFadden is locked away in a maximum security prison, Bobby will never really feel safe, and will act accordingly."

"That's just great. So how much longer do we have to go?"

"The sentencing is next week. And Bobby finally gets that sling off the week after that."

"Thank God!" Deakins sounded genuinely relieved. "Maybe after that we can get things back to normal around here. If there is such a thing…"

A few minutes later Bobby was back, brandishing a bottle of AquaFina. He knew Deakins had asked about him. "What did he say?" he asked Alex.

"What? Oh, Deakins. He just wanted to know when the sentencing hearing is. He's ready for things to return to normal."

_Aren't we all,_ Bobby thought. "Hey, want to do something "normal'? Like maybe do dinner tonight? It's been a while."

"Sure! You're right, it _has_ been a while."

"Great, how about The Bullpen?"

"The Bullpen? You are talking some money there, mister."

"I know. Pick you up at seven?"

0O0

The evening out for the detectives proved to be very easy-going and relaxing. Bobby was in a great mood, joking and goofing around. He was finally starting to believe that maybe things would be all right after all.

As the waitress took their orders-- a thick medium-rare ribeye for Bobby, and a filet, well done for Alex--they talked easily over everyday things.

"I'm babysitting my nephew this weekend," Alex announced.

"Nathan, first time?"

"Yes, I'm kind of nervous. It's going to be all day."

Bobby smiled at her, seeing the anxiety in her eyes, and touched her hand. "Alex. You're great. You can do anything, and being a mother—aunt—suits you. You are going to do fine."

"Thanks," she said, enjoying the feeling of his hand on hers, and the encouragement he offered. Bobby was such a great guy. Sometimes she wished they had met under different circumstances. But…things were as they were.

After the waitress brought their dinners, Bobby said, "God! I've been looking forward to this. You realize how long it's been since I've had a decent steak?" He cut into his ribeye, with difficulty.

Alex wrinkled her nose, watching as the red juices dripped out. "Eww. You mean your slightly seared cow flesh? How can you eat that?"

"Man up, Eames. If you ever once tried your steak like this, you'd never go back to that dried up leather you call 'meat' again."

"Man up? Look who's talking?" she laughed. "You can't even cut your own meat!" Seeing the look on his face, she immediately regretted saying it, fearing it would bring up the memories again. After a second though, Bobby joined in the laughter.

"Okay, you got me on that one." He had that lost little boy look on his face again. He looked at his steak, then at Alex. "Uh…I don't guess you'd…"

"Here." She pulled his plate over and cut his meat, while Bobby sat watching with a big smile on his face. _Wonder who got who on this,_ Alex thought, still cutting his meat. She looked at him with his beautiful smile, and wondered. Why couldn't life be like this for him all the time?

tbc

A/N At some point this will probably move over to the "M" section. Maybe.


	9. Chapter 9

Counterplay Chapter 9

Alex Eames couldn't shake the feeling that she was being followed. But despite the fact she could feel it, she never did see anyone, of course. She was beginning to get a little nervous.

_Talk about Bobby being paranoid,_ she thought. _How paranoid am I? And why would anybody be following me anyway?_

She decided against mentioning it to Bobby. He had enough on his mind, he didn't need to be worrying about her, too. But she did mention it to Deakins, who didn't like it at all.

"I'm going to put a few uniforms in your neighborhood, just to keep an eye on things," he told her.

But Alex refused. "I'm sure it's nothing. I think I'm just a little nervous with the sentencing hearing coming up. It's crazy. I just think that with all the tension surrounding Bobby and this case it's starting to affect my nerves, too. I can't imagine how it must be for Bobby. And besides, I'm a big girl now, and I think I can protect myself."

"Yeah, I know." And he did know better than to assume Alex Eames couldn't take care of herself. "But I am going to send a car around periodically."

Alex sighed. "Alright. Just don't say anything to Bobby, okay?"

Deakins did agree to that. He didn't want Bobby worrying unnecessarily, either.

As the week wore on, everyone's senses seemed to have heightened dramatically. And if possible, Bobby was more hyper-vigilant than ever.

0O0

Two days before the sentencing, Alex informed Bobby that she wouldn't be able to make the hearing; she had agreed to baby sit for her nephew again,

"Aw, really? Bobby was genuinely disappointed.

"I'm sorry, at the time I didn't realize it is the same day as the sentencing. This time, it's an overnighter, too. Guess now she knows I'm capable."

"Was there ever any doubt?" Despite his disappointment, Bobby was supportive. He knew how much she loved her new little nephew. "See, didn't I tell you you'd be great?"

"Thanks, Bobby," Alex said gratefully. "I'm really sorry it turned out to be the same day. Call me, though, as soon as you hear, okay? I'm dying to know what they end up giving that slimy bastard."

Bobby sat down at his desk. "Don't worry, you'll be the first to know. So how is the little guy?"

"The 'little' guy isn't so little anymore," Alex said proudly. "Ten weeks old, and already he's doubled his birth weight!"

"Guess that's good, huh?" Bobby said. "Let's see, if he continues at that rate…by the time he's a year old, you'll be lugging him around in truck…"

Alex waited patiently for him, knowing he was teasing. "Are you finished?" she asked, teasing him back.

"Yeah, I'm done," he smiled at her.

0O0

Although Bobby didn't let on, he was actually kind of hurt that Alex had forgotten about the sentencing. He really didn't blame her, it wasn't her job to baby sit him. It was her job to baby sit her nephew. Still…

But Alex saw it in his eyes, just for the briefest of seconds. "Bobby, I'll see if Mom can watch Nate through the day—"

"Don't be ridiculous, it's okay, Alex. It's not like he can get to me or anything…"

"But, a little moral support would be nice!" She was angry at herself. How could she have forgotten? How could she let him go through this all by himself? After all he's been through? "No, I'll get Mom—"

"Alex! I'm telling you, I'll be okay. Besides, the Captain will be there."

Alex was a little relieved. "The Captain will be there? That's good. But please believe me when I say I didn't realize it was the same day."

"I do believe you. And it is okay."

0O0

Finally it was quitting time. It couldn't have come any sooner. They didn't do a lot of talking, mostly just did their job, and they'd had a lot to get done.

"Six o'clock," Bobby announced. "I'm going home. You coming?"

"Uh, not just yet. You go on, I'll catch up with you tomorrow."

Bobby stared at her for a second. "You sure? I can wait."

"No, go on. You're still recuperating, and you do look tired. Go on."

"Okay…"

After Bobby left, Alex went and knocked on Deakins' door.

"Come in."

When Alex walked in alone, Deakins almost craned his neck looking for Bobby.

"He's gone," Alex said.

"So why are you still here?" Deakins took off his glasses and put down the report he was reading.

"I screwed up." Deakins sat there, waiting for her to go on.

"I can't make the sentencing."

Deakins looked surprised, and Alex continued. "I promised my sister I'd baby sit, I completely forgot about the sentencing. I…I hurt Bobby, I think."

"What did he say?"

"He said it was okay, but I know it hurt him. Not that I'm babysitting, but the fact that I forgot about the hearing."

Deakins nodded. "It's been rough for him Alex. Like we've all said, he'll never really be together again until McFadden's put away for life. I think he was counting on your moral support—"

"Think I don't know that?" Alex burst out. "Why do you think I'm so upset? I failed him—again! Just like when he was locked up. He should never have been hurt like he was. I should have made that judge get him out of there!" Alex looked like she was going to cry.

Deakins stood up, and came round to Alex. "Alex, that wasn't your fault, we've been over that all before. You're being at the hearing won't change anything. Bobby's a big boy, you don't have to be there. And if he should want that moral support, I'll be there. Not that he _needs_ me. He'll do fine either way. Now go home, get some rest. You'll probably be up all night with your nephew Friday anyway."

At the mention of her nephew, a little smile came across her face. "I'll guess you're right." But she couldn't get over the feeling that she let her partner down.

0O0

The day of the hearing, Bobby was up and ready at the crack of dawn. He was more than ready to get this all over with, and never have to hear the name McFadden again, or even think of him. He dressed in his dark gray suit, and looked good, very professional. And that was the persona he wished to portray to McFadden, that everything that happened to him was over, and after today McFadden would be nothing to him.

Deakins was picking Bobby up today. He came to the outside intercom, and pushed the button.

"Hey, Jim," Bobby said, answering the intercom.

"You ready, Bobby? Brace yourself. Afterwards we're going out and we're drinking ourselves into a stupor, no matter what the outcome."

Bobby grinned, drinking himself into a stupor sounded like the perfect way to spend a Friday night. Particularly this one.

0O0

Bobby was very nervous waiting for the hearing to begin. It was all he could do to not pace outside the courtroom. Finally it was time to go in.

McFadden was already there, sitting at the defense table with his lawyer. He glanced around once at Bobby, then kept his eyes riveted on the judge. _Odd behavior,_ Bobby thought. He figured McFadden would be giving him the death stare again, but it was like he didn't even care that Bobby was there.

And the sentencing couldn't have gone better. McFadden got twenty-five to life for the murder of Luke, and another fifteen for the beating and attempted murder of Bobby, to be served consecutively. James McFadden would be a very old man when he got out of jail.

When McFadden heard the sentence, the only reaction he showed was a slight slumping of his shoulders. Then he did spare Bobby a glance. Bobby couldn't help the slight smile that played at the corners of his mouth, and McFadden actually smiled back at him. Then he was taken away.

The smile did not go unnoticed by either Deakins or Bobby. "He's a strange guy," Deakins observed. Then, "You ready to get the hell of here? We'll get out of these fancy duds and get comfortable, then we're out for the night, maybe the next couple of nights!"

Bobby didn't even crack a smile. "Bet Angie will like that," he mumbled.

Deakins really had no plans for spending a couple of nights out, but he did plan on making the most of tonight. "C'mon, Bobby, lighten up. We won, remember?"

Bobby didn't budge. "I don't like this." Bobby said. "Not at all."

"Jesus Bobby! Is there no pleasing you? You're not happy when the guy's coming at you; you're not happy when he's not!"

Bobby was still staring after McFadden. "Yeah, well I'd rather he was coming at me. At least then I'd know what to expect."

"There _are_ no expectations. The guys going to prison, and that is that. Now come on, we've got a lot of drinking to do in a limited amount of time. And I'm going to drink you under the table. Show you what the old man can do."

Bobby finally allowed himself a slight smile. "I guess you're right. But I seriously doubt you are going to drink me under the table."

"We'll just have to see about that." By the time they actually left the courtroom, Bobby was in a fairly good mood.

Bobby decided to go home and change into something a little more comfortable than his good dark gray suit. While there he figured this would be a good time to call Alex.

"So what did he get?" she asked, trying to talk and hold the baby at the same time.

"Forty years, all told. Twenty five for Luke, and another fifteen for me."

"God that is so great, Bobby! I told you it would be good!"

"Yeah."

"'Yeah?' Is that all you can say, 'yeah'?" Alex was getting a little concerned. "Are you all right? You did say forty years, right?"

"I don't know, Alex. Something just bothers me about the whole thing…"

Alex sighed. Maybe Bobby _was_ getting a little paranoid.

Tbc

A/N FYI Criminal Intent is in jeopardy of being cancelled. There is a petition to save our show on thereelvincentdonofrio. If you'd like to sign, it is a very simple thing to do. Just thought you all might like to know.


	10. Chapter 10

Counterplay chapter 10 

Bobby had no way of knowing, but as he and Deakins were drinking and getting in a little down time at a local bar, forces were conspiring against him.

It began with the prison van carrying James McFadden to his new home in the Attica Correctional Facility in western New York. After about an hour on the road, a car suddenly swerved into their lane. The driver had to swerve out of the way, and a minor accident ensued.

"Watch him," the driver said to his partner, indicating McFadden. "And make sure he's alright." The driver got out, gun pulled, and went to the driver of the other car.

"Hey, you alright in there?" he called. Getting no response, he attempted to open the door when the door suddenly slammed into him, knocking him down. The driver was out in a flash, his own gun out.

"Wil—Wilson!" the van driver called to his partner. "He's got a gun!" To his great surprise Wilson waltzed right up to him, accompanied by James McFadden.

"What's wrong, Rollie?" he asked, now pointing his own gun at his partner. And it suddenly became very clear to Rollie what was going on, as James McFadden, now armed with his own gun, put it to the his head.

"Sorry to do this to you, Rollie, but I've got plans for this evening, and you just don't figure in those plans."

"Please…no…" Rollie shut his eyes and put his hands to his head, trying to protect himself as McFadden grinned. " I got nothing to lose now." He squeezed the trigger. The other two looked away as half of Rollie's head blew apart.

"Okay," McFadden said, let's get this stuff out of here." The "stuff" included the prison van and Rollie the driver, plus any incriminating evidence, They put Rollie into the van, and drove the van into the nearby woods. Then McFadden, Wilson and the driver of the car, Steve Micks, all piled into Steve's car and started out for their next destination: the home of Alex Eames.

0O0

Alex wasn't sure exactly what she had gotten herself into. Her little nephew, Nathan, wouldn't stop crying. The crying had been gone on for at least an hour. She checked and changed his diaper, he still cried. He wouldn't take his bottle, and he kept spitting out his pacifier.

"Nate…please," she pleaded with him. "Please take your passie." She attempted to put his pacifier in his mouth again, and once more he spit it out, still crying. Not being very experienced with babies, she wasn't really sure what to do next. Since carrying him around bouncing him did little good, for the time being, she put him in his swing while she figured out what to do next. She certainly never expected this. Maybe she'd call her Mom…

Before she had a chance to call anyone, there was a knock at her door.

"Great! Just what I need!" She glanced at the still crying baby, and very distracted, went to her door

"Who is it?" she asked, opening the door but leaving the chain guard on the door.

"Delivery for Ms. Alex Eames."

Alex didn't remember ordering anything, but she might have…she quickly racked her brain trying to think if she had, when suddenly the door burst open, knocking Alex down. She scrambled quickly to her feet, but was quickly pounced on by Steve Micks. She tried to knee him in the groin, but didn't get too far as McFadden and Wilson quickly stepped in.

"Hi, ya, Alex," McFadden grinned at her. She gasped. "McFadden…"

"Remember me, huh? I must have made quite an impression on you. You got the hots for me, babe?" He gave her an evil grin.

Alex didn't answer, just continued to stare at him.

"I think she likes her partner better," Wilson said.

"That true, Alex? You like your partner better?"

"No—yes—please, what do you want?" Alex asked, beginning to feel really scared.

The grin on McFadden's face was pure evil, and never seemed to end. "We just want to party, Alex."

"Get away from me!" Alex snarled.

"Well aren't you just the little ball of fire…" He placed his hands over both her breasts, cupping them. "You do know I've had you followed this past week, right? Sweetie?"

"Please…" Alex said, beginning to tremble.

"It's okay, baby." McFadden's voice was silky as he stroked her hair. "Nobody has to get hurt." He suddenly became aware of the baby crying. "Shut that kid up!" he told Micks, who made a move for the baby.

"NO!" Alex screamed. "Don't…don't hurt the baby! Please!"

McFadden turned back to Alex. "It's like I said, Alex. Nobody has to get hurt. Well, almost nobody."

"What…do you want?" Alex's voice trembled as she asked her question again.

McFadden looked her up and down. "Under normal circumstances I would say _you_. But this ain't normal circumstances."

"Then, what?" Alex was still confused, and terrified, not just for herself, but for baby Nathan too. Especially the baby. She now regretted ever offering to take the baby for the weekend, for a number of reasons.

"Not _what_. _Who_."

_Oh, no! _"Bobby?" she asked tentatively.

Wilson and Micks both laughed at her. "She's a smart one, isn't she?"

"Yeah," McFadden said to her, _"Bobby."_ He could not have said the name with more hate and sarcasm. "And _you_ are going to be the one to get him here."

"The hell I am! I will not help you in any way! Haven't you already hurt him enough?"

McFadden laughed again, still stroking her hair. "Baby, I just barely got started on him. Tonight I intend to finish what I started."

Alex's heart sank. In an effort to dissuade him, she said, "You'll never get away with it! They're probably out already looking for you! They'll catch up with you before—"

He grabbed her by the hair. "Before, what?"

"Before…long," Alex gasped.

McFadden sneered. "It'll be a long while before they even know I'm missing. I've got more than enough time. And you, sweetie, are going to get your partner here—NOW."

"No I'm not…"

"Stevie! Grab that kid!"

"NO!" Alex screamed, "No! Please…not the baby."

McFadden was still grinning. "Your partner or your kid. Your choice."

"Why? Why does it have to be—"

"Your partner or the kid! Choose now, or I won't be able to stop what Stevie does to the baby. He's quite the sadist."

Tears were now streaming down Alex's face. "Okay," she whispered, "my…partner." This was one of the worst moments in her life. She was giving up Bobby. She was giving up her partner, the man who would lay down his own life for her.

"Good girl," McFadden said into her ear. He handed her the phone. "Call him. I don't care how you get him here, just get him here. And remember, Stevie is just itching to get to your baby."

Alex took the phone, slowly, like it was poision. Which it was. In desperation, she hoped to be able to fool McFadden. She dialed Bobby's home number, knowing he wouldn't be there.

"He's…not home. I don't know--"

"You little bitch, call his cell. Now! And you'd better get him…" He glanced knowingly at Stevie. "Now call."

Alex had to force herself to dial Bobby's number. It went against everything she had to do this.

0O0

Bobby and Deakins were enjoying themselves, drinking and kibitzing, having a good time, when Deakins announced he was hungry. "Wanna go somewhere, get a good steak?"

Bobby laughed. "The last time I went out for a steak, Eames had to cut it up me. You willing to do that?"

"Tonight I'm up for anything—"

The ringing of Bobby's cell phone interrupted them. He took it out and looked at the caller ID. "It's Eames," he said, slightly puzzled.

"Goren," he said into the phone.

"Bobby? It's…Alex."

Bobby's brow furrowed. "Uh, Alex, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"You don't _sound_ fine. Are you crying?"

"Um, I'm just a little upset. My sister is coming back for the baby. Already."

"Why? What happened?"

"I'm not sure. They…uh, had a fight, I think. That's why I'm calling. I was wondering if you could come by and pick me up? Maybe I could join you tonight?"

"Yeah, of course. We were just going to grab a bite to eat. Did you eat yet?"

"No."

"Alright, then, we'll pick you up, be there in about half an hour."

"Okay."

_God, she sounds miserable!_ Bobby thought. _Damn them! Why couldn't they just let her_ _keep the baby overnight?_

Alex hung up the phone, turned to McFadden and said flatly, "You fucking bastard."

The only response she got was a look of pure malevolence.

Tbc

A/N The next chapter will probably be found in the M section.


	11. Chapter 11

Warning: This chapter is rough, not very pleasant. There will be violence, so if anyone is not comfortable with it, you have been warned.

My thanks to my official sounding board, my good friend blucougar

Also, there is a new poll out to save Criminal Intent. It's at USA Today. It is a short survey where you vote to save your show. Once there, click on the "life" icon. We need all the votes we can get!!

Counterplay Chapter 11

"What's with Alex?" Deakins asked.

"It's her damn sister and brother-in-law." Bobby was doing his best not to slur his words. He'd drunk twice the amount Deakins did, but was still fairly sober, considering. "They had this…fight, I guess, so they're not going away, and they're taking the baby home. Alex is crying, I think."

"Alex is crying? C'mon, that doesn't sound like her."

"I know. But I don't know… the baby…" he sounded vague, uncharacteristically confused.

"Maybe you'd better let me drive," Deakins suggested. Bobby may not have been drunk, but he was definitely feeling those last few shots.

0O0

"You're being a very smart girl, Alex." McFadden was pacing around the living room. "How long till he gets here?"

"About…thirty minutes…" The venom was just dripping from Alex's mouth.

"Okay, little Alex." He was stroking her again; she was cringing at his touch. "Let's go over this one more time. When your boyfriend gets here, you're going to insist he come in. I'm going to be watching you the whole time. If you fuck up just once—any little signals, clues,,, well first I'll put a bullet through that big brain of his, then I kill the baby, and then it's Fun Time with Alex." He looked Alex up and down again. "You like fun, don't you, Alex?"

"Not with you!"

McFadden slapped her, hard, knocking her down.

"I guess you _do_ like your partner better," he said, standing over her. "Well, we'll see just how much fun _Bobby_ can be." Every time he said the name Bobby, he said it with such hatred and antagonism it made Alex wince. "Get up, and clean yourself up. I want you looking good for him. And remember, Stevie will be watching the baby."

While Alex made herself fairly presentable, under the watch of the treasonous guard Wilson, McFadden busied himself checking out the house, including the basement. Satisfied, he finally returned to the living room, checking his gun and occasionally taking a furtive glance out the window from behind the curtain. He made Alex sit on the couch while they waited for Bobby, and despite her protests, Micks took baby Nathan into the bedroom.

"Remember, little Alex, any screw ups and Stevie hurts the baby."

Alex nodded. Although Alex prayed that something would come up, and for some unknown reason Bobby wouldn't show, but she knew it wasn't to be. After a while Wilson said, "Hey, it looks like this might be him."

A sudden shot of fear went through Alex, and McFadden checked. "Yeah, it's him. Ready Alex?" he said, pulling the reluctant Alex off the couch.

0O0

Pulling into the driveway behind Alex's car, Bobby sat there in the passenger seat for a minute with his eyes closed.

"You want me to go up and get her?" Deakins asked.

"No, no, I've just suddenly got this monster headache," Bobby said, pinching the bridge of his nose just below his eyes. "I'll get her."

Deakins smiled. "Damn, Bobby, if you've got that bad a headache now, I can't wait to see you in the morning. Just sit tight, I'll let her know we're here."

As Deakins approached the door, McFadden, who was still watching, suddenly said, "Who the fuck is that?!"

Alex looked out. "It's…it's our captain. I…I don't know why—"

McFadden grabbed her by the hair, forcing her face into his. "Just fix it! Now!"

Deakins knocked on the door, and Alex opened it. _Damn! She does look like she's been_ _crying…_ he thought. "Alex, are you alright?"

"I'm fine…um, sad that Nathan's going home. Come…in." She did _not_ want Deakins coming in, but there was nothing she could do.

Deakins hesitated. "Bobby's in the car…"

"I know. My sister isn't here yet. We have to wait. Can you … can you tell Bobby to come in?"

"Okay, I'll go get Bobby. He's had a few," he warned Alex playfully.

Alex gave him a wan smile. However drunk Bobby was, he wasn't drunk enough. Not enough to get through this night.

0O0

"Bobby! C'mon, Alex is waiting inside," he said, opening Bobby's door.

Bobby looked at him. "I thought we—"

"We are. We just have to wait a bit. Alex's sister hasn't shown up yet."

Bobby got out, and followed Deakins to the door. Alex was standing there, with the strangest, morose look on her face. Bobby thought he had never seen her look so sad. God, he'd love to wring her sister's neck for doing this to her.

Alex ushered them in, her one hand covering her eyes so they couldn't see her eyes, and she couldn't see theirs. Bobby had the strange feeling that something was very wrong.

Once inside the door, suddenly there was the unmistakable feel of a metal gun to his head.

"Get down!" McFadden snarled. "ON YOUR KNEES!" Bobby did as he was told, as Deakins whirled to see what was happening.

"Ah, our guest of honor has arrived," McFadden said smugly, pushing the gun harder into Bobby's head. Deakins would have gone for his own gun if the threat to Bobby wasn't so real, with the gun pressed into the base of his neck.

Then from nowhere it seemed, Micks and Wilson emerged, each holding a gun. Then none of the hostages had a chance.

Bobby looked at Alex. "Alex?" he asked. There was no mistaking the look in his eyes. Betrayal. Alex, his best friend and partner, had given him up.

Alex's eyes were pleading with him. "I'm so sorry, Bobby, oh God, I am so sorry… the baby—"

"Yeah, we're all so sorry, Bobby," McFadden said sarcastically. "We're a real sorry bunch here, aren't we?"

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Deakins demanded.

"I think," McFadden said with his ever present evil grin, "that I have some unfinished business with Detective Goren. And you, old man, are gonna sit your ass down and watch. Or, you can participate."

"Participate in what?"

McFadden turned to Bobby. "Our unfinished business."

"You sick motherfucker," Bobby said. That earned him a hard whack across the back of his head with the gun, knocking him down, dazing him.

"Please," Alex begged, "Don't hurt him!"

That only made McFadden laugh. " 'Don't _hurt_ him'? That's the whole purpose of our little get-together. Okay, sweetheart, it's time to get this party started. I need you to gather some items for me. First, your handcuffs. Get them, _now_."

Alex, accompanied by Micks, walked slowly into the bedroom for the cuffs. She glanced at the baby, who had apparently cried himself to sleep. McFadden took advantage of her brief absence and spoke softly to Bobby. "You know, it didn't take much to make her give you up. All I had to do was threaten her once, and she was all over that phone calling you."

Bobby closed his eyes momentarily, as if to block out the words he was saying. It didn't help. "Yeah, she gave you up in a New York minute."

"Bobby, don't—" Deakins started, but stopped as he felt a gun at his own head.

Alex walked over to McFadden, and dropped the handcuffs at his feet, staring at him defiantly.

McFadden stooped to pick them up. "That's all right, baby. That's just one more thrust with the broom handle for Bobby here." Alex looked horrified, and felt horribly guilty. This was something else she's done now to hurt him. "Every time you disrespect me, he pays. Now," he handed the cuffs back to Alex, "I want _you_ to cuff him. And make sure they're tight, or you know what happens."

Alex knelt by Bobby. If possible, she felt even worse, now she had to be the one to cuff her own partner, leaving him totally at the mercy of this sadistic monster. "I'm sorry, Bobby," she whispered as she cuffed his wrists behind his back. If he heard her, he didn't acknowledge.

McFadden checked the cuffs. "Good job, little Alex. I can see how you made detective. But how did this shit ever make it?" He kicked Bobby viciously in the ribs and chest, rolling him over. "Now Alex, I need you to gather me some clothesline.. Oh, and get us each a beer. You want one, old man?" he asked Deakins.

Deakins refused to say anything. "Get one for him, too," he told Alex. "And one for yourself. Just bring out the whole twelve pack. This is a party, y'know."

Alex stared at him, unmoving, until Wilson gave her a shove. McFadden and Micks picked Bobby up into the kneeling position again. Already Bobby was hurting; his still recuperating ribs were broken again. And he knew this was only the start of his ordeal.

Alex returned, carrying clothesline and the beer. She handed the items to McFadden dully, and distributed the beers to the others. Micks and Wilson took and drank theirs eagerly. Deakins didn't touch his, nor did Alex.

"Drink," he told Alex and Deakins. When neither moved, he jerked Bobby's head back by his hair. "Drink, or I'll break his goddamed neck."

As Alex and Deakins reluctantly drank their beers, McFadden opened one of his. Still holding Bobby's head back so far he had to open his mouth to breathe, McFadden started pouring the beer down Bobby's throat. "Don't want to leave you out, Bobby, it's your party." As the beer poured down his throat, Bobby started choking. After a bit, McFadden let him go, pushing him down, and Bobby fell to the floor, gasping and choking. McFadden poured the rest of the beer all over him.

Wilson laughed. "Now this is a party!"

McFadden opened his beer, then suddenly turned and kicked Bobby in the face, breaking his nose again. Bobby cried out in pain, as his eyes began watering from the blow to his nose.

Seeing Bobby's eyes watering, McFadden sneered. "Oh, is the big detective crying? Alex, you need a real man. Ordinarily, I'd be willing, but tonight I'm saving myself for Bobby. Oh, and I need another beer." He pointed to the twelve pack not three feet away.

McFadden cut the rope into shorter pieces. "Here Wilson, tie the old man up—Captain, is it—who gives a shit anyway." Wilson took the rope and tied Deakins hands behind him.

Alex brought McFadden another beer. Handing it to McFadden she again pleaded, "Please don't hurt him anymore."

Bobby stared at Alex, his eyes already bruising and turning black. His face was unreadable. "Bobby, I'm sorry!" she started again. "They made me! They—"

McFadden grabbed her. "Shut the fuck up!" He slapped her again.

"Stop it! Bobby shouted, still choking a bit. "I don't care what you do to me! Just…let them go."

McFadden suddenly became enraged. "Oh you don't, huh? We'll see about that!

Then he shoved Bobby to the floor onto his back. "Spread him!" he snarled at the other two. Bobby tried to resist, but he was outnumbered, hurt and cuffed, and Wilson and Micks pulled his legs apart. McFadden sneered at him, "So you don't care what we do to you, huh?" And he kicked Bobby savagely in the ribs again, then in the groin, three or four times until Bobby started vomiting. Alex had turned, covering her eyes, not wanting to see, and unable to help. McFadden motioned for them to let go of Bobby's legs, and as Bobby continued to throw up he tried to turn over so as not to choke again and to hide himself from Alex and Deakins. And he was hurting bad.

McFadden waited for Bobby to stop vomiting, then told Alex, "Clean that disgusting mess up. Now."

"Okay," Alex said, tears streaming down her face again. She got some paper towels and a cool washrag. She gently wiped Bobby's face, even as he tried to turn away from her, completely mortified. "It's okay, Bobby, let me, please," she whispered to him. Finally she managed to clean his face as he lay taking shallow breaths, refusing to look at her. Then she cleaned up the floor.

"Thank you, little Alex. He's disgusting, isn't he? Oh, well, after tonight, it won't matter. Get him back up, boys."

"NO!" Alex screamed. "Don't touch him again!" She actually tried to push him away from Bobby. McFadden laughed, and shoved her onto the couch. Still laughing, he straddled her and tied her hands behind her.

Changing the subject, McFadden said, "You know, that's a real nice bed you've got in there, Alex. Big, solid brass, and sturdy. Tell me, Alex, do you think it's sturdy enough to keep your partner down when we tie him to the posts?"

Alex's eyes widened. "No…don't…"

McFadden suddenly stood up. "It's time to get this show on the road. And you, little Alex, and you, old man, have got front row seats, the best in the house. Okay, Alex, move. You, too, old man. Move!" Neither was inclined to head into the bedroom, until McFadden put his gun to their heads. Then they moved.

Once inside the bedroom, he directed them each to a chair on either side of the room, brought there by Micks and Wilson. They were each tied securely to the chairs.

"Why are you doing this?" Deakins asked hoarsely. In answer, McFadden ripped off a piece of duct tape and placed it over Deakins' mouth, effectively silencing him. He did the same with Alex.

"And now for the guest of honor." The three returned to the living room, where Bobby was still lying on the floor. He'd attempted to get up, but his injures and cuffed hands prevented it. McFadden knelt beside Bobby.

"You ready to give that big bed of hers a workout?" he said softly. Then, "Okay, Bobby, it's show time. Let's get him in there," McFadden said to the other two.

Micks and Wilson jerked Bobby to his feet again, and the three of them started dragging Bobby to the bedroom. Bobby fought, and resisted with everything he had. In his condition, it wasn't enough.

tbc

The next chapter will be in the M section, I think.


	12. Chapter 12

Warning: This chapter is rated M, borderline NC-17, for explicit descriptions of sexual and violent assault. If you were uncomfortable with the implications of the previous chapter, or if you are not comfortable with this sort of descriptive prose, then DO NOT read this chapter. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED . Constructive criticism only, please.

My thanks again to blucougar

Counterplay Chapter 12

McFadden laughed as the other two dragged Bobby into the bedroom, kicking and fighting all the way. It was no use, with his new injuries and hands cuffed behind his back he was no match for them.

Before the horrified eyes of Alex and Deakins, the men managed to strip him completely from the waist down. Bobby was mortified, he could not cover himself, or the dark bruising that was now appearing on his privates.

"C'mon, Bobby," McFadden mocked him. "Show a little pride." He forced Bobby to stand straighter, facing Alex, leaving nothing to the imagination. "Bet you two gave that bed a workout, huh? Damn, Alex, he's a big boy. You able to take all of him?" Bobby closed his eyes, trying to block out what was happening to him. Alex tried to turn away, but McFadden grabbed her hair again, forcing her to look at Bobby. "LOOK AT HIM!" he snarled. And Alex did, herself mortified for Bobby. "And you, Bobby, look at _this_." Bobby inhaled sharply, hurting his ribs, as McFadden produced the broken broom handle. Once again he closed his eyes, willing all this to go away.

"Get rid of that baby," McFadden said, and Alex panicked, straining at her bindings. "Relax, little Alex, I only mean to the other room. As long as you continue to behave, nothing will happen. Screw up, and….? Micks, get the kid into the other bedroom."

Bobby watched dully as this little scene unfolded. He knew in a few minutes his big scene would begin, and everything would be over for him.

When Micks returned, McFadden shut the door, giving the room a feeling of remoteness, as if they were shut off completely from the rest of the world. He turned to Bobby. "You going to make this easy? Or difficult? Your choice. Matters little to me." He smiled at Bobby.

"If you think I'm going to lay down for you you're badly mistaken—"

"Strange you should say that, Bobby, cause that's exactly what you _are_ going to do."

With that, the three of them began dragging him onto the bed. Bobby seemed to suddenly go crazy, and began thrashing, kicking and making it very difficult, even managing to head butt Wilson, who punched him hard in the face. Bobby gave it a valiant effort, all in a losing cause. They had him face down on the bed. He screamed to McFadden "I'm going to kill you!!"

They grabbed his legs, spreading him as far as possible and finally managed to tie Bobby's ankles to the brass posts. He screamed again, "I'm going to kill you!!"

McFadden leered at Bobby. The evil just emanated from him. "Shut him up," he told Wilson. Wilson picked a sock up off the floor, rolled it, and stuffed it in Bobby's mouth.

McFadden took another piece of the rope, and tied it to Bobby's handcuffs. "Oh, you're going to like this," he grinned. Then he pulled upwards on the rope, and through the brass slats on the headboard, and pulled, extending Bobby's arms up and over his head, and then down, in a horribly unnatural position. He watched as the pain clouded Bobby's eyes, then pulled tighter and tied it off, once again tearing the muscles in Bobby's shoulders. He walked around to where Bobby could see him. "Now, Bobby, I don't think you're in much of a position to do _anything_, let alone kill me." He looked Bobby over, up and down the length of his body, then went and stood behind him. "But you know what? I do kind of like the position you _are_ in."

_God…Please!!_ _NO!!_ Bobby said in his head, over and over.

McFadden continued, trying to make the mental anguish as horrible as he could. "I never noticed before, but Bobby, you've got a damn nice ass." Suddenly he seemed angry, and hit Bobby hard in the back of the head, splitting the skin. "You've just got it all, don't you? Nice ass, big prick, big fancy job… you've just got it all." He hit him in the head again, then just as suddenly as he was angry, he started to have fun again, and started to humiliate Bobby again.

"Yeah, you've got a damn fine ass. Doesn't he have a nice ass, Alex?" Alex was trying, along with Deakins, not to watch, "C'mon, Alex, I'm not gonna tell you again: LOOK AT HIM! You take your eyes off him again, and I'll either put a bullet in his head, or Micks takes care of the baby." He chuckled. "Wonder which one she'll choose, Bobby? That goes for you too, old man." Deakins unhappily returned his gaze to Bobby.

Then as he was wont to do, he grabbed Alex's hair again. "I asked you a question. Does he have a nice ass?" Alex had no idea what to answer, knowing that whatever she said would no doubt be wrong. He took her head and made it nod. "This means yes," he told her, then moved her head from left to right. "And this means no. Now, does Bobby have a nice ass?"

She finally nodded her head, hoping to God that it was the right answer. "I think so, too. What do you think, old man, Bobby got a nice ass?"

Deakins just nodded his head, too. He was sure they were all going to be killed anyway, after McFadden was through with Bobby.

Bobby had no choice but to just lay there, shamed beyond all reason, as all their eyes focused on his exposed and vulnerable body parts. He was praying to God to kill him now, to relieve him of his misery, both mental and physical. He knew it would only get worse.

McFadden turned back to Bobby, placing his hands all over Bobby's behind and underneath him, twisting hard. Bobby's body arched, trying to free himself of McFadden's hand. "Yeah, you got a real nice ass. We just may save this broom handle for dessert, cause I think I might just have to fuck you," he grinned. Bobby shuddered. He put his cock to Bobby's opening and started pushing, trying to force himself in. Bobby's muscles all tightened in an effort to keep him out. But like everything else in this miserable affair, it didn't work and only made it more difficult and painful. As McFadden began thrusting into Bobby harder and harder all Bobby could think was _please let it be over soon, oh my god! it hurts! please let it be over…Please god!!_ At last Bobby could feel the little spasms as McFadden came in him. McFadden pulled out slowly, as a small amount of blood seeped out of his captive.

Bobby was devastated. After it was over, he just lay there, not moving, hurting too much. He no longer cared. McFadden got in Bobby's face. "How was that, Bobby? Was it as good for you as it was for me? Was it as good as with Alex?" If he expected a reaction, he got none. "We gave that bed a pretty good workout, huh?" Still nothing. He grabbed Bobby by his hair and yanked his head back. "You fuck! I'm talking to you!" When Bobby still didn't react, it enraged him. He turned to his buddies. "You guys wanna take a shot at this fuck?!"

"Oh, yeah!" Wilson said.

_God…no…!_

He and Micks each took a turn, each one more vicious than the last. Bobby felt every painful thrust. McFadden watched, a smirk of satisfaction on his face. He could see Bobby's reaction, see the pain in his eyes, and with each thrust Bobby felt deader and deader on the inside. Then McFadden went again.

Finally, finally, after what seemed like hours, it was over. Wilson left the room to use the bathroom, returning a few minutes later. "I just saw a police cruiser go by, McFadden. You might want to wrap things up, it won't be long before they get that you're missing."

McFadden looked around hastily for a moment. "Yeah, okay—in a minute." For his final act of torture, he took the broom handle and held it where Bobby could see it. "Remember this? This is for you."

Outright stark fear went through Bobby, he started struggling again, to no avail. McFadden walked behind him. "Spread him," McFadden told the two. Then McFadden put the broom handle to his opening. Bobby could already feel the sharp edges. And he was terrified.

0O0

Twenty minutes later it was over. Bobby was bleeding badly, barely conscious. His body couldn't stop trembling. He was breathing shallowly, in extreme pain, unlike anything else he'd experienced. And McFadden was finally satisfied.

Wilson had left for a few minutes, Now he was back. "That police cruiser just went by again. If you're going to kill him, do it, man, we gotta get out of here." Even Micks was starting to get anxious.

McFadden took out his gun, and despite the obvious objections of Deakins and Alex, who were struggling against their own bonds, he put the gun to Bobby's head. Bobby closed his eyes again, his heart beating furiously, waiting to be executed. McFadden stared at Bobby for a moment, then, to the astonishment of them all, put the gun back in the waistband of his pants.

"What the hell?" Micks objected, "Do it, man!"

"Yeah, come on!" Wilson said, "We ain't got all—"

"Shut up!" McFadden snarled at them. "I got something else." Bobby opened his eyes, just barely slits now, and tearing. He could see, just barely, McFadden looking him up and down again.

_No…_he thought miserably.

"I've decided to do you a big favor, Bobby. Instead of killing you and putting you out of your misery, I've decided to postpone it. I'm going to let you live, so you can suffer, and let the pain go on indefinitely, and the shame of being a rape and torture victim will stay with you forever. Then at some point in time, I'm going to kidnap you, take you someplace remote where they'll never find you, and rape and torture you for the rest of your life. You think this was bad? This was nothing. You'll be begging me to kill you, and I most definitely will, when I'm finally through with you. So I'd be real careful if I were you, you'll never know when I'm coming. So, until next time, Bobby."

Then he said to Deakins, "Sorry you didn't get to participate, old man, we're a little strapped for time. And little Alex, it's been a real pleasure."

As they were leaving the bedroom, he went by Bobby one last time, pausing only to roughly feel him up again, hurting him, and Bobby grimaced in pain. "Remember, Bobby, I will be back for you. And that's a promise."

They left the bedroom, closing the door behind them, and were gone, leaving behind three bound captives, one a seriously injured and very emotionally devastated Bobby.

tbc

A/N It will soon start to get better.

Don't forget to vote to keep Criminal Intent on the air--- check out the Life section at USA Today


	13. Chapter 13

Counterplay Chapter 13 

Alex Eames was nothing if not resourceful. She struggled, squirmed, pulled, squirmed some more, and finally managed to get her hands in a position where she could work to loosen the knots. Fifteen minutes later, she was free. Moving as fast as she could, she first called 9-1-1, then hurried back into the room with a large kitchen knife. She quickly freed Deakins who would help with Bobby. Her key to her handcuffs was close by, and while Deakins covered Bobby she released the catch. Bobby moaned in pain at the movement in his shoulders. Moments later, they managed to cut through the ropes binding his ankles.

Bobby was only semi-conscious, and in incredible pain. He wanted to sleep, make it all go away. He moaned, hitched a sob, and mumbled something neither could understand.

"Where the hell is that bus?" Deakins demanded angrily. He'd barely said it when they heard the wail of the siren. "Thank God!"

In seconds, the paramedics were through the door, and things seemed to blur for Alex. She watched, in a fog, as the paramedics did their job, taking Bobby's vitals and preparing him for transport to the hospital. In no time at all they were ready. "Anyone riding?" they asked as they hurriedly left the house.

Deakins wanted to go, Alex wanted to go. Alex couldn't go because of the baby. And Deakins couldn't leave Alex. "We'll follow," Deakins told them. Then the bus was gone.

Alex fell against Deakins, sobbing miserably. Deakins stroked her hair, and told her as gently as he could, that she had to get someone to come for the baby so they could leave. She nodded numbly, and managed to call her father.

0O0

At the hospital, Alex and Deakins waited for what seemed like hours for word on Bobby's condition. While they were waiting, Deakins, who had gotten them both coffee, mentioned to Alex that perhaps she should seek medical attention herself.

"I wasn't hurt," she said dully. "He smacked me around a little, and pulled my hair. _Bobby_ was hurt."

Deakins sighed. She was a big girl, if she thought she needed medical attention, she'd get it. He thought she was okay too, he'd only mentioned it as a precautionary measure.

Alex's eyes were bright with tears. "It's all my fault," she whispered.

Deakins wasn't sure what to say. He put his arms around her. "This is tough, Alex. Yes, some of the responsibility is yours, there's no getting around that. But, did you have a choice? No. You are not the one who did this to Bobby. McFadden did this to Bobby.

"But he'll still never forgive me…if he hasn't been hurt so much that he dies…" She began crying. Deakins continued to hug her. "He's gonna make it, Alex, thanks to you."

She looked up at him, confused. "What do you…"

"It was you, Alex, and the fact that, against all odds, you managed to get free of the ropes. I couldn't. I doubt Bobby could have under the same circumstances. And you got the ambulance there in time. He'll be okay." Deakins forced himself to believe that.

"God, I hope so…" _please God, let him be alright…_

Tears still streamed down her face. "But he'll never forgive me. Three times! Three times I failed him. Why did I agree to watch the baby? Why didn't I just go with him to the hearing? He wanted me to go and I didn't. I failed him."

"Alex, you didn't know."

Alex didn't even hear him. "Then I led him into the trap. And then, I couldn't even ride to the hospital with him, he was all alone. He could have been dying! And he'd have been all alone. It's all my fault."

"Alex, you couldn't—"

"I led him into a trap! I led YOU into a trap! Can _you_ even forgive me? And if you can't, how can Bobby?"

"Okay," Deakins said, "I admit I was angry, but I also knew why you did it. So I do understand, and beings I am okay, yes, I can forgive you. But, and this is a major point, they never touched me. It will be harder for Bobby, a lot harder. And I'm not saying that he ever will forgive you, just that it will be harder for him. All we can do is hope to God he survives, and take it from there. Now either finish that coffee or toss it, and we'll get new."

Alex swallowed her coffee in one gulp, then said, "Can we do both?"

Deakins smiled. "Come on and sit down. I'll get us some coffee, then we'll just sit and wait for the doctor."

0O0

At last the doctor emerged, and approached Deakins, with Alex by his side. "Captain Deakins? I'm Doctor Morrow. You're here for Robert Goren?" He shook his hand.

"Yes, yes I am. And this is Alex Eames, his partner. How is he?"

"Well," the doctor said, "Considering everything, he did great."

Alex and Deakins both breathed a huge sigh of relief.

"Which isn't to say he is out of the woods. Not by a long shot. He was starting to go into shock, but luckily, he was brought in here in time and we were able to control it. That is not a problem at the moment. The problem is, in injuries like this, there is always a very strong likelihood of infection." (Both immediately thought of Luke.) "And he was very seriously injured."

Alex looked away, and Deakins nodded. "Yes, we are aware of that."

The doctor continued. "With that in mind, we are taking _every_ precaution, and at the moment, as far as the surgery itself goes, I'm going to go out on a limb here and say it's looking good."

"And the rest?" Deakins asked.

"Nothing life-threatening. He has two fractured ribs, and one shoulder is dislocated. Both shoulders are also strained, with tears and ligament damage that we've taken care of surgically. They should heal on their own now with rest. He has a broken nose, and a couple of lacerations and rope burns. Aside from that, the rest is just bad bruising. That, too, will heal on it's own."

Deakins nodded, and Alex sighed again, with relief.

"One more thing. In this type of assault, there is almost always some sort of emotional or psychological trauma. How deep it goes depends on the individual, of course, and what was done to them. But I strongly recommend counseling."

"Of course," Deakins said.

"But our main objective right now is to get him better physically."

"When…when can we see him?" Alex asked, almost shyly.

"Not for some time, I'm afraid. He is heavily sedated, and it will be at least a few hours, probably more, before he wakes up. Why don't you both go home and get some rest, and come back a little later?"

"Alex?" Deakins asked.

"I can't go home!" Alex said, starting to get emotional again. "There's CSU techs all over! And the bed!…I can't…"

"Alex! It's okay. I know all that. I meant, should I take you to your parents' house? Or you could come back with me and catch a few hours in the spare bedroom? Angie can help you settle in."

"No. I'll stay here. But...thank you."

Doctor Morrow interrupted. "Uh, if you insist on staying, there's a little lounge around the corner. There's a few couches, and I can have someone call you."

"Thank you, Doctor." Alex was relieved, she wanted to be there when Bobby woke up.

Before leaving, Deakins made sure the two guards he'd ordered were placed outside of Bobby's room. He was taking no chances.

0O0

Annie Johnson, a registered nurse, was in the room adjusting his meds and taking his vitals again when Bobby started to wake up. He awoke to a world of pain. Everything about him hurt, _everything._ He moaned, and the nurse watched him, wondering if he was going to wake all the way. Then she heard him whispering, "Oh God!" a few times.

"Honey, how are you feeling?" she asked him.

"Oh God!" he murmured again. "Oh God, it hurts!" His voice was raspy from the tube that had been in his throat during the surgery.

"It's all right, sweetie. Doctor left orders to give you something more for pain when you woke up." She injected a syringe of pain medicine into his IV.

For a moment he was confused, "What… what happened to me?"

Annie felt badly for him, but told him the truth. "You were assaulted, honey, and you've had surgery, but you're fine now. You—"

"What? I--" Bobby said, then it all came back to him. "No! Oh, God, no! No!"

"Honey, you're okay, you're okay." Annie tried to calm him. She was about ready to call someone in, when Bobby said, "Could you—please—leave me alone? Please!" He tried to turn, but everything in him just hurt too bad.

"Alright, honey. You're right across from the nurse's station. If you need something, just press this button." She put the call button in his hand. "Or just yell."

Bobby was still in a lot of pain, still trying to adjust himself so he could relieve some of it. "When's that painkiller gonna start working?" he gasped out.

"Any second now. It should start helping any second, just hold on a little more, honey."

She was right. It started taking a little edge off the pain, not a whole lot. But anything was better than nothing.

Seeing him settle a little, Annie said, "Would it help any if I brought in your friend Alex? She's been waiting to see you all night."

"Alex?" Bobby rasped bitterly. "Tell Alex I'm sorry I 'inconvenienced' her." He had to stop as a wave of pain overcame him. After a moment, he tried again, hoarsely. "Then tell her to fucking go home. I don't want to see anyone, least of all her."

"Honey," Annie started, but Bobby turned his battered face away. She caught a glimpse of the tears streaming down his face, then left to tell Alex gently that Bobby wasn't ready for visitors.

tbc


	14. Chapter 14

Counterplay Chapter 14 

Annie Johnson watched as her patient slept fitfully. So far, after four days in the hospital, the only time he slept peacefully was when he was heavily sedated. She knew what had happened to him, and felt horrible. She was very empathetic to her patients, and had already taken a strong liking to this one. And because of the horrendous things that had already befallen her patient, she became very protective of him, like a mother bear protecting her cub.

Bobby would have nothing to do with anyone. When he was awake, he stared at the spot where the ceiling and the wall met; mostly he feigned sleep. On one such occasion, Annie watched, and though his eyes were closed, it was impossible not to miss the tears that slowly leaked out. She sat down gently on the bed beside him, and gathered him into her arms.

"It's okay, baby, it's gonna get better. I promise you, it's gonna get better." Bobby lost it then, and as she stroked his hair, he cried openly into her ample bosom.

Annie soon became the only person Bobby would communicate with at all. If you could call what he was doing communicating. He was refusing to speak to a therapist at all, and as yet, had refused any and all visitors. He spoke minimally to his doctors, managing at the most, a yes or no. And sometimes not even that. The doctors just had to guess at how he was feeling. Worst yet, he absolutely hated when the doctors had to examine him, he made no eye contact, and gave no indication that he was aware they were even there. He completely shut down.

On one occasion, after the doctors examined him and left, Annie cradled his head again as he cried. "It's alright, Baby, it's alright. You cry, Baby, and get it out, Annie's not gonna let anyone else bother you today." She rocked him gently back and forth. "It's going to get better, baby, you'll see," she whispered to him. She had taken to calling him "Baby"or "Babyboy" and for some reason it was a comfort to Bobby. Maybe it was because he liked Annie Johnson, a large black woman raising three children on her own. He felt safe with her. She was more comforting to him in the short time he'd been in the hospital so far then his own mother had ever been to him.

"How, Annie?" Bobby whispered through his tears. "How can it ever be better?"

Annie ran her fingers gently through his curls. "It will, Baby, you'll see. After a while it won't hurt so much, and then things will start to get better. You'll see," she promised.

"When is it ever going to just stop hurting?" He was still whispering, as if afraid to let anyone hear him. Physically, Bobby still hurt tremendously. His other injuries were bad and caused him a lot of pain, but the damage done to him by the rape was horrible, they had literally torn him apart. The absolute worse, though, was being sodomized with the broom handle. What had been left after the sodomy had caused him to nearly bleed to death, and the doctors had a difficult time repairing him. That was the worse. Every little movement caused extreme pain. He couldn't imagine anything hurting more.

"Soon, Babyboy, it'll go away soon. Give it time. Now I'm going to give you some pain medication, and I want you to sleep. Okay, Baby?"

Bobby watched gratefully as Annie injected the solution into his IV, then fell into a blissful sleep. "My poor baby boy," Annie thought.

0O0

Alex was extremely reluctant to return to her house, and in fact, wasn't allowed to, even after the csu techs were finished. Neither Deakins nor her father would allow it, and Deakins placed a few guards around, just in case McFadden decided to make a return visit, although that was very unlikely. When she did return, the first couple of nights her father and brothers alternated staying in the spare bedroom. And Alex slept on the couch.

Getting up one night, John saw his daughter still up, staring at her bedroom. It was two a.m.

"Honey, you've got to go in there sometime," he said, putting his arm around her.

"I've been in there," she mumbled.

"Yeah, for two minutes, to get some clothes to take to the other room so you wouldn't have to go back. Alex—"

"I can't, Dad! I just can't! You didn't see what they did to him! They beat him, then they dragged him in there…and…and—Dad! They tied him to my bed!" She burst into tears again, and her father held her in his arms. "Alex…"

She pulled away. "Dad, it was so horrible! They stripped him, and they tied him down. He couldn't move, and they…they hurt him…Dad! They hurt him so bad!" She broke down once again.

"I know, honey—"

"There was blood all over—the mattress, the posts, everything!"

"And that is why we got you the new bed. There's no footboard, or posts at all. Absolutely nothing like the old one. And we replaced the carpet…"

Alex looked at her father. "I know, Dad," she said softly. "Thank you. It's just…I don't think I can ever go in there. I'm not sure I can even stay in this house at all. Can I just stay with you and Mom for a while? Till I can…sell it?"

The idea of selling her house bothered her, too. She had worked hard for many years to be able to have her own place. And she loved this house.

"Sure, honey, of course. If you're sure."

"I am, Dad. After what I did to Bobby—"

"Alex! You did nothing to Bobby! It was that bastard McFadden! It wasn't your fault! Please, honey, you have to know that…"

"Then why do I feel like it was? Why won't Bobby speak to me? Dad," she said, very quietly, "Do you know that I was the one who handcuffed him?" She started crying softly again.

Her father took her in his arms again. "Alex…Honey, what happened was about the worst possible situation that could have happened. You had no choice. If you hadn't done what you did, little Nate wouldn't be with us today. And I am so grateful for that."

"I know. But Bobby…?"

John Eames sighed. "What happened to Bobby was terrible. But Bobby knew the chance you take when you join the police force. And when you're as good as he was…is…you're bound to make enemies. This guy just had it in for Bobby, bad. And if somebody really wants to get to you, they will, and they will use any means available to them. You, unfortunately, provided the means. If it hadn't been you, it would have been someone else. But, regardless, it would have happened at some point with a nutcase like that."

"Why? Why did it have to be me? Dad, Bobby's never going to see it like that! All he knows is that I was the one who handcuffed him and gave him to McFadden!"

"Alex, Bobby's a smart guy. After the initial pain and hurt is over, he'll realize, and he'll come around. It's going to take time, honey. Just give him time."

Alex nodded mutely, too choked up to speak. _But will he ever trust me again?_

0O0 

Bobby was being monitored very closely for any signs of infection, and the more days that passed, the less likely it would become. But they were not taking any chances; even the slightest infection could prove deadly. And so far the results were good. More good news was that the hiv test that Bobby had been given had come back negative. Of course, he still wasn't out of the woods on that. Sometime down the line he'd have to have another test done before he could be deemed totally free of that terrible disease. This was something Bobby had never imagined for himself, taking a test for hiv. This left Bobby feeling ashamed that a test had been necessary, extremely worried about the outcome, and more than a little resentful. He was becoming more withdrawn, and had everybody worried. He still refused to speak to anyone, including anyone from Special Victims.

Not long after, Annie came into his room to find Bobby's face turned, staring angrily at the wall.

"Baby, why don't you talk to someone? You're gonna have me start worrying over you. If you want, I can have Doctor talk to you."

Bobby wouldn't even look at her.

"Baby, if you don't talk to someone, it'll just delay your return to work. And I know you don't want that."

Bobby finally turned to her. "What makes you think I would even _want_ to return to work?" he said bitterly. Then he turned back to the wall, closing his eyes, doing whatever he could to shut out the entire world.

Annie went and sat by him on the bed, stroking his hair. "I know you don't mean that, baby. You're just hurting now. I promise you it will get better." And as much as Bobby wanted to remain bitter and angry, there was something about Annie that just comforted him so much.

Annie was no doctor, nor a psychiatrist, but she had a way with her patients, and was determined to do whatever she could to help this big detective, whom she'd come to care for as one of her own.

And she wasn't the only one feeling that way. Getting Bobby back on his feet and ready to reclaim his life seemed to be everyone's focus, because the alternative was just not an option.

tbc


	15. Chapter 15

A/N Sorry for the delay in posting. I have been dealing with some on going personal matters and the death of my mother. I'll do my best to get these chapters posted regularly.

Counterplay Chapter 15

If it hadn't been for Annie Johnson, Bobby would have no doubt withdrawn completely. As he recovered a little more physically, she cajoled and kept after him persistently to speak to a therapist. He finally agreed, mainly to get her off his back, and immediately regretted it. But he kept his word and soon found himself face to face with Dr. Painter.

"So, Bobby, where would you like to begin?" Doctor Painter asked. And although Bobby had agreed to this, he did so reluctantly. He was angry and not very forthcoming. In fact, he hardly spoke at all.

"You're the one who wanted this meeting, you tell me."

"Well, why don't we start with why you are here in the hospital?"

"I thought you _knew_ why I was here?" Bobby said, a little sarcastically.

"Well, I do. I'd just like to start at the beginning."

Bobby looked down. There was no way he was going over the intimate details of his ordeal with this man. He was trying with every fiber of his being to forget about what happened, not rehash it over and over.

"I…I can't."

"Why not?"

"I just…can't. I'm not ready…"

"I understand that this is difficult, but it is necessary—"

"Why?!" Bobby exploded. "Why is it so goddamned necessary that I repeat it all to you? You know what happened, you just said so! And I know what happened! I'm not going over it again and again!"

"Okay," Doctor Painter said. "You are not ready to talk about it yet. When do you think you _will_ be ready to talk about it?"

"Never."

"'Never' is not an option. Listen Bobby, I know that you are an intelligent man, that you know that it is important to talk things out. As long as you keep it inside you, it keeps you in it's power. You know that." He let that sink in, then said, "And I need to know from you a time when you _will_ be able to talk about this?"

Bobby studied the man for a moment, sighing inwardly. "How about a couple of days? Let me…get used to the idea for a bit. Reconcile to myself the fact that I do need to do this?"

"Okay. Today is Tuesday, I will see you again on Thursday. And we will talk. Agreed?"

Bobby agreed.

0O0

Annie was so happy for Bobby that that he had finally spoken with someone other than herself. "I am so proud of you, baby! That wasn't so bad now was it?" At the look on his face she burst out laughing. "It couldn't have been that bad!"

"It…It didn't go that well," Bobby admitted sheepishly. "I really didn't say much…I couldn't."

"Baby, I'm just glad you're talking at all. You'll start talking more, little by little." Without missing a beat, she said, "Soon I'm gonna have you talking with your captain and your partner, you got that?"

"Jesus, Annie! You just don't know when to quit, do you?" Bobby said. He tried to say it sternly, but the truth was he couldn't get mad at Annie. And she knew it.

"I'm not gonna quit until you start talking and stay talking."

0O0

Bobby was slowly starting to heal, at least physically. Now he could get out of bed, albeit with help, and very painfully. And once up, it hurt too bad to get back down. So he was spending a lot of time standing up and staring out the window. And thinking. He really wasn't sure anymore just what he wanted or expected out of life. He knew he was lucky to be alive, lucky that McFadden hadn't killed him outright. He certainly had the means; he could have killed him in any number of ways. Bobby had expected, once they had him tied down, to die a horrible death. Well, he got the horrible part, but he didn't die. Which led to the question, when and how would McFadden strike again? McFadden had promised, not _**if**_, but _**when**_ it happened, it would be even worse, and on going, tortured until he was dead. Bobby couldn't imagine how it could be worse, but was sure McFadden would find a way.

Just thinking of McFadden brought out all kinds of emotions in him. Fear, for the obvious reasons. The thought of being taken by McFadden and forced to endure whatever McFadden's twisted mind dreamed up was terrifying. Hatred, Bobby had never hated anyone liked he hated McFadden, and for the first time in his life Bobby had his own feelings of a horrible revenge. He had never wanted revenge on anyone like this before, and didn't like the feeling at all. And at the same time he could imagine the great satisfaction it would bring. Images of a mutilated McFadden kept popping into his head. And that felt good. And at the same time that good feeling scared him to death.

The shame Bobby felt was something unlike anything he'd felt before. Sure, there had been times as a kid when his mother's schizophrenic behavior had truly shamed and embarrassed him, but nothing like this. Being stripped and tied down in a position where he was totally exposed, where everyone could see everything concerning his body, not five feet from his captain and partner, both of whom had been forced to watch. Then being raped and sodomized, made fun of and humiliated in every sort of manner. This was "close your eyes and wish you were dead" shame. Bobby could hardly face the doctors and nurses taking care of him, let alone Deakins and Alex. New waves of shame washed over him every time he remembered he had yet to face them.

And anger. His anger was all consuming. He didn't think he would ever get over it.

0O0

Thursday arrived, and as agreed, Bobby met once again with Doctor Painter.

"How do you feel about it now?" Painter asked. "Talking about it," he clarified.

"I'm not sure."

"Okay, start from the beginning. What happened to bring you to this hospital?"

"Why am I'm here? I'm here because my fucking partner led me into a trap and I was…attacked."

"Your partner led you into a trap? How did that happen?"

Bobby stared at him. This son of a bitch was going to drag every little item out of him. "I just really don't want to talk about it, to think about it. You say I need to talk about it to get it out of my system? Well how the hell do I get it out of my head? It's all I do is think about it! I stand at that window or lay in that goddamned bed and THINK! I think how my so-called partner betrayed me! I think how that mother fucking son of a bitch beat the crap out of me, and…and…what he did to me! I think. I just think…" Bobby couldn't go on.

"Why don't we talk about your anger, why you are so angry—" When Bobby started to break in, the psychiatrist continued, "and you have every right to be angry. No one should ever have to endure what you went through."

Bobby said nothing, just turned away.

"You're angry at her." It wasn't a question. "You are almost as angry with your partner as you are with your attacker."

Bobby turned back furiously.

"You're god-damned right I'm angry! And I'm not just angry, I'm so fucking angry I could…"

The doctor waited. Finally, "You're so angry you could what?"

After a moment Bobby said, "Forget it. I don't know."

"But you _are_ angry at your partner."

"I told you," he said through clenched teeth. "She knowingly led me into a trap! She fucking _handcuffed_ me and handed me over!"

"And why do you think your partner did this to you?"

Bobby looked down, "I…I don't know…" He looked up again. "But if she'd given me any warning at all this would never have happened! And we'd have McFadden right back in prison where his ass belongs!" He was furious all over again.

The doctor nodded. "Stop and think about this for a minute, Bobby. _Why_ would your partner--Alex isn't it—_why_ would she do that to you?"

"I already told you," Bobby said slowly. "I. Don't. Know."

"You have no idea? No idea at all?"

After a moment, he finally said, "She was protecting her nephew."

"Okay. Alex was protecting her nephew. So you don't think there were extenuating circumstances?"

"She led me into a trap!!" Bobby said vehemently. "It doesn't matter why! She knew what they would do to me, and she did it anyway! She turned me over to the man who vowed to kill me! I would _never_ have done that to her," he said bitterly. "_Never."_

"So what _would_ you have done?" the psychiatrist asked.

"What?"

"What would you have done in the same circumstances?"

"I don't know. But I damn sure wouldn't have done what _she_ did."

"Okay, Bobby. How do you know? I want you to put yourself in her place and tell me what you would have done."

Bobby glared at him. "I'm done here," he said, unable to give up the anger. He turned away from the doctor.

Dr. Painter got up to leave. "Okay, I'll see you tomorrow. Same time."

0O0

As luck would have it, Deakins and Alex came to the hospital that day, hoping to see Bobby. He hadn't seen anyone outside of the hospital yet, and was still fuming when they arrived. Bobby decided to get it all out, once and for all.

"Yeah, let them come in," he told Annie.

Annie went out to the waiting area and very proudly announced that Bobby would see them. Alex and Deakins looked at each other and Alex took a deep breath.

"Here goes nothing," she said hopefully.

tbc


	16. Chapter 16

Counterplay Chapter 16 

Alex and Deakins stepped tentatively into Bobby's room. Even though it had been almost a week now since the attack, they had yet to see him, and were both slightly taken aback by his appearance. His face still bore the marks of a severe beating, black and blue, and swollen in places; his doctors were extremely worried about more damage to his already injured cheekbone. And once again, his arms were immobilized He was shirtless, and his ribs were taped. His kidneys had been badly bruised, and the doctors wanted to keep an eye on that, too. Very similar to the first attack by McFadden, only now there was the damage done by the rape and sodomy.

Deakins and Alex both kind of stared uncomfortably at Bobby for a moment. Bobby watched them as they looked at him; he immediately assumed they were looking at him with disgust, since that was what he was feeling about himself. Shame once again enveloped Bobby, and his best defense for that became a good offense.

"What?" He demanded

Both were surprised by the animosity.

"I…we just wanted to see you, Bobby," Alex said. "See how you're—"

That was all the opening Bobby needed. "See me? What? You didn't see enough of me the other day when they paraded me naked in front of you?" He was very agitated, already worked up and on the verge of losing it. "They fucking stripped me, Eames! I don't know how I could have accommodated you any better!"

Alex and Deakins were shocked.

"Bobby, that's is not what I meant! And it is not fair!" Now Alex was feeling defensive. "I never wanted this to happen. Please believe that!"

Bobby turned his head, ignoring her.

This was going to be harder than she thought. "Bobby, I know you're hurting--bad," she said softly. "I know that. And I am so sorry. But you're not the only one hurting, I'm hurting, too, because I—"

That was the worst thing she could have said. Bobby's head snapped back. "Really?" he snarled. "If you are so fucking 'hurt' then how come _**I'm**_ the one in the hospital! Don't you even _**try**_ to compare your pain to mine!"

"I…I wasn't…" Alex started.

Bobby was furious. "Were you the one they stripped down and tied to the bed? Did they beat the shit out of you? Did they torture you?"

"Bobby!" Deakins said threateningly, but Bobby continued doggedly on. "Did they fucking rip you a new asshole?"

"Bobby…please…"

"You have the _audacity_ to compare your pain with mine?!"

"I just wanted to help…" Tears sprung to her eyes, but Bobby was blind to it.

"Help? Let's see. Rape? Sodomy? Complete and utter humiliation? Thanks, Eames, but I'm not sure I could take any more of your 'help'. You _betrayed_ me, Eames. I would _never_ have done that to you. Never!"

Alex turned away, ashamed. She knew Bobby was right, he never would have done that to her.

"Oh, by the way," he said, as if it had just occurred to him, "How did _your_ AIDS test turn out? They're not real sure about mine, it'll be a few months before I'll know for sure whether or not—" Alex fled the room as Bobby watched dispassionately.

Deakins stared at Bobby in disbelief. Bobby stared right back.

"You son of a bitch," Deakins said. "If I thought they wouldn't throw me out on my ass I'd come over there right now and beat whatever crap's still left in you out!"

"Do it!" Bobby challenged defiantly. "C'mon, DO IT!"

Deakins stalked angrily over to Bobby, ready to rip into him. But one look at his bruised and battered body stopped him. _Oh my god! I almost hit him!_ He thought. _This is insane! It's making us all crazy!_ He turned to leave. "I'll be—"

"NO! Do it!" Bobby roared. "C'mon! I want you to!"

Deakins stopped in his tracks and turned to look at Bobby. Bobby was still staring defiantly. "You said you wanted to beat the crap out of me? Then DO IT!"

"Bobby…" Deakins said in a low growl.

"Do it!" Bobby was losing it now. "I said to FUCKING DO IT!!" He was practically begging.

Deakins stared in shock, as a few nurses hurried into the room. Bobby tried to get out of bed, only to fall back in terrible pain. His heart rate rose dangerously. A nurse ushered Deakins out of the room, while another nurse put a syringe with a sedative in it into Bobby's arm to calm him. A few moments later, and Bobby was out.

0O0

Out in the waiting area, Annie consoled a sobbing Alex, holding her in a huge bear hug.

"He didn't mean it, honey. He's upset. He's not himself yet."

Alex looked up. "I know that, but-- Oh, Annie! I hurt him so much! He'll never forgive me!" She cried softly. "He won't even let me tell him how sorry I am, he's so angry."

"I promise you, honey, he'll understand in time. And it _will_ take time, he was hurt very badly."

"But even if he understands, he'll never really trust me again. He's right, I did betray him."

Deakins then walked into the room, a strange look on his face. "Alex, why don't we call it a day and go on home?"

"But what about Bobby? What's wrong? Something's wrong…"

"He's okay, Alex, he's asleep. He was very upset, and they had to sedate him. We'll come back again tomorrow."

_If he'll even let me,_ she thought. She was even more bothered hearing that Bobby had to be sedated.

"Thank you, Annie," Deakins said, glad that she had comforted Alex, if only a little. He didn't let on to Alex, but he was more than a little concerned about Bobby's mental state.

0O0

After taking Alex home Deakins went to his own home where his wife, Angie, had supper ready. He sat at the table, idly pushing the food around on his plate. Angie attempted to make conversation with her obviously preoccupied husband.

"Jim?" No answer. "Jim? Jim!"

"Huh? What?"

"You're so preoccupied. What's going on?"

"Sorry, I was thinking."

"About…?"

"Bobby. Angie, I almost hit Bobby today." He said it very slowly, as if he still didn't believe it.

"What?"

"I almost hit him, damn it!"

"Jim, why? Why would you ever hit Bobby? And especially when he's so hurt?"

"It's this whole attack thing, Angie! It's got us all crazy! Alex feels so guilty she's ready to quit! Bobby is so angry he's out of control. The guy's laid up in the hospital and he's _still_ out of control. And me? I'm ready to hit a guy in a hospital bed! Christ!"

"Jim, calm down and tell me what happened."

Deakins thought for a moment, trying to get his thoughts together in some kind of coherent order. "I took Alex to see Bobby today. He lashed out at her, said some terrible things to her…made her cry. So I threatened to beat the crap out of him...not meaning it, of course, and he challenged me, made me so fu—excuse me, Angie. Made me so damn mad I actually went over to him and was going to hit him! What the hell is wrong with me!"

"Jim, did you hit him?"

"No, of course not! But—"

"Then stop worrying about it. Jim, we both know you would never hit anyone, let alone Bobby. Go back tomorrow. Talk to him."

Deakins sighed. "I guess you're right. And I am going back. But I still feel bad about what happened."

"I know you do, because you're _you_." She thought a bit, then said angrily. "All of this because of one horrible man."

"Who happens to still be on the loose," he reminded her. "And he left Bobby with the threat of coming back and kidnapping him, and subjecting him to even worse abuse."

_Worse?_ Angie thought. _How could it possibly be any worse?_

"The fact of the matter is that Bobby is in danger—real danger. McFadden doesn't make empty threats. So sometime he _will_ be coming for Bobby."

"Oh, God, Jim," she gasped. "You have him protected, right?"

"Oh yeah, while he's in the hospital. As much as we can do. It's when he's finally out and on his own I'm worried about. I know he's so bull-headed he'll refuse protection. But to be honest with you, right now I'm more concerned about his mental health."

0O0 

The sedation had finally worn off, and Bobby found himself wide awake at two in the morning. _Great…_ Bobby lay there a long time, thinking about the events of the day. He thought of Alex and her betrayal. Eventually he drifted off into a very uneasy sleep.

"_C'mon Bobby, come in."_ _Alex stood by the door to her house, holding the bloody handcuffs. "Bobby, come inside. Don't you trust me?"_

_Bobby hesitated, as a strange feeling of apprehension came over him._ "_It's Alex,"_ _he_ _thought._ "_It's okay."_

"_Trust me,"_ _Alex said._ "_I'm your partner. I would never let anyone hurt you. You trust me, don't you?"_

"_Yes, I trust you."_ _Still the feeling of uneasiness hung on. Bobby tried to fight it, he_ _desperately wanted to trust Alex. But the feeling wouldn't go away. Alex was beckoning to him, and he started in her direction._

_Fear and panic overcame him. Desperately he tried to stop his advance. But Alex's soothing voice was hypnotic. "Come in, Bobby. Trust me. Trust me. Trust me…" The words reverberated in his head over and over. "Trust me…"_

_Bobby entered the house. Inside, waiting for him, were Alex, and James McFadden and…spiders…millions of them. They were on the ceiling, the walls, the floor. They were literally coming out of the furniture. Alex's eyes were a luminous green, McFadden's eyes glowed red and bored into him. The spiders scurried around Alex, seemingly at her bidding. "Oh god," Bobby thought, "she's like a black widow."_

_Alex advanced on him, holding out the handcuffs. Bobby tried to turn and run, but he couldn't move. "No Alex!" he screamed._

_Alex grinned evilly at him, the luminous eyes even brighter. "I'm going to handcuff you, Bobby. Put your hands behind you, no one will hurt you. I would never betray you."_

_Obediently, still trusting, Bobby put his hands behind him, and Alex put the bloody cuffs on him. "Alex?" he asked._

_Still grinning broadly, Alex kissed him, then opened her mouth to reveal teeth morphing into spider fangs. She bit him savagely on the lips, then turned to McFadden and the spiders.. "I've done my part," she announced. "He's all yours," _

_McFadden, wielding a long, thick stick, and the spiders all bore down on him. Again Bobby tried to run, but his legs wouldn't move. They advanced, slowly, ever so slowly, as Bobby stood there paralyzed. The spiders started to crawl up his legs, he could feel the feathery tickle as they climbed up his body. He tried to brush them off, but he was cuffed, and the more he tried, the more they climbed on him. Soon they were all over him, he could feel them everywhere, tickling, biting. Then McFadden was on him. "Never trust your partner," he purred in Bobby's ear. "She's like a Black Widow. She will love you, then she will kill you…" _

_Blood was everywhere, the pain was horrible. Bobby was screaming "Alex! I trusted you! No! No! No…!"_

"Wake up, Mr. Goren," the night nurse shook him gently, afraid to hurt him. "Wake up, Mr. Goren, you're dreaming."

Bobby awoke with a start, and tried to get out of the bed, but it hurt too bad. "Mr. Goren! It's okay, it was just a dream."

Bobby lay back again, breathing hard. "Oh god…" After a moment he said, "Why, Alex? Why?"

tbc


	17. Chapter 17

Counterplay Chapter 17 

There was a lot of remorse the following day, on the parts of all participants in yesterday's fiasco.

Alex couldn't get over her guilt over what she perceived as her participation in the attack on Bobby. She wondered if they hadn't pushed too hard in wanting to get in to see him. He obviously wasn't ready for visitors, and she was convinced Bobby had had to be sedated because of her. _Everything is because of me,_ she thought. _It's true_. _No matter how anyone figures it, no_ _matter what the reason, whether I had a choice or not,__**I**__ was the reason Bobby had been hurt so bad._

The possibility of Bobby contracting AIDS had somehow, with everything in chaos, as it were, never occurred to her. Not until Bobby brought it so clearly to her attention. Obviously Bobby had been thinking about it, he had to be terrified. And she was terrified now, too. With the fact that all three of his attackers had all been in prison at one time or another, the likelihood of it occurring became even greater. It would be some time before they could be sure. She couldn't imagine what had to be going through Bobby's mind. God! _Why_ had she decided to babysit that day instead of going with Bobby to the sentencing like she was supposed to? It all stemmed from that, the first time she had betrayed him. Now everything had changed, and nothing would ever be the same again.

Alex seriously considered quitting the force. She was slowly losing all confidence in her abilities. She was a detective first grade. Couldn't she have somehow talked three stupid cons out of the attack? Couldn't she have diffused the situation before it escalated to the tragedy it became? Maybe she wasn't as good as she once thought. She obviously didn't have what it took to be a partner. Bobby wouldn't want her as a partner when he returned; she'd never want another partner except him, anyway. And she was pretty sure no one else would want her as a partner, either. Not after what she did.

0O0

Bobby was having a few regrets, too. He had nothing else to do but lay in bed and think, and his thoughts were erratic, all over the place. In a way, he felt bad for having gone off on Eames. Not that she didn't do everything he said, but somewhere in the back of his mind he knew it wasn't malicious on her part. And he did like Eames, you didn't work with someone exclusively like that for as many years as they did and not feel something. And sometime, he would have to really talk to her again. But that day was a long way off, he didn't think he could trust himself around her…he still had way too much anger.

But that would only help one area of his life, when and if it happened. He had a few other issues going on to really have time to dwell on that area. _A few issues! What an understatement!_ He thought. Until Bobby had actually mentioned it to Eames, he'd managed to keep the thought of AIDS out of his mind. His anger had served him well, there. He'd been so focused on being angry, and on the pain and humiliation that he was and is experiencing that he'd never really considered his potential future. And now his entire future was in jeopardy. The absolute last thing he ever thought he'd have to worry about was AIDS. His mind drifted back to one of the first cases he'd ever worked at MCS, with Alex. It had involved a young woman, Gia, whose boyfriend had spent time in prison. _There's virtually no chance that you're not infected_, he'd told her, lying, and now he could apply the same thing to himself. Only this time he wouldn't be lying.

In his mind he projected his life as an AIDS patient, and it wasn't pretty. He pictured the early shunning by his colleagues who would know how he contracted it, and the assumption of others; the stigma, the taunts. His mind depicted, with graphic clarity, the weight loss, exhaustion, the constant sickness, and then the eventual breakdown of his entire immune system, which would lead to an agonizingly slow death. And Bobby was scared, a lot more scared than he would ever let on.

He thought over to that night, the night he'd blindly walked into that trap. In a way he blamed himself, for being stupid. He should have known from the get-go that something was up. But no, he had to have those few "celebratory" drinks, just enough to mess him up. Then he walked right into it.

Every time he thought about it, and he thought about it a lot, he winced. He could not, _could not_, face anyone again. He was so ashamed. Ashamed that Alex and Deakins had seen him stripped, tied down in a unbelievably humiliating manner, and raped. Raped! What kind of a man gets _raped_? Did that make him less of a man now? His logical mind told him no. He'd been held at gunpoint, handcuffed, beaten, and tied down. There was absolutely no way he could have prevented it. So why did he feel less of a man?

Bobby knew McFadden had reveled in every part of his torture. He had enjoyed the beating, thrilled to see Bobby's complete and utter humiliation when he forced him to stand naked in front of Alex. And when he'd entered Bobby as he had, he had known exactly what it would do to him. Well, if McFadden had planned on emasculating him, he had succeeded. With all the problems, big and small, he'd encountered throughout his whole life he had somehow managed to keep a grip on them, but this…How could he possibly overcome this? There was no way to undo what McFadden had done to him.

Just the thought of McFadden brought up feelings in him he never knew existed. Like utter fear. The fear of McFadden taking him again never left his mind, even with guards stationed outside his door, he didn't feel safe. If somebody wanted you bad enough, they'd find a way to get you.

The other feeling it brought up was revenge. Bobby had never been one to extract revenge, but this was different, this was extreme. This was an act of cold-blooded torture perpetrated on him merely for the amusement of another human being, He'd never felt so much hate for a single person in his entire life. Right now, the only question was who would get to who first.

0O0

Jim Deakins stopped by the nurses' station on his way to see Bobby. Or at least he hoped to see Bobby; after yesterday, he wasn't so sure.

The nurse on duty spoke with him.

"He seems a little better today," she said, "well, calmer anyway. Of course, that is due to the fact that the doctor now has him on a relaxer. But, he _is_ permitted visitors. So if he's willing…"

Deakins frowned. "Is he that bad that he needs to be put on a 'relaxer'? Just what is a 'relaxer' anyway?"

"I don't know why, sir, I just know that his doctor thought it was necessary."

Deakins sighed, walked across the hall and stopped at Bobby's door, which was partially open. He knocked tentatively.

Without even looking up, Bobby said, "Go. Away."

"Bobby…please…"

Bobby closed his eyes. _Please, just leave me the hell alone…_

"Bobby!" 

Bobby looked up. "What? You want another shot at me? Join the crowd, you're in good company."

Deakins took a few steps into the room. "If I really wanted to hurt you, I'd have done it yesterday. And it would have been easy. But I'm not here to hurt you."

"Then what _do_ you want?" Bobby asked bitterly.

Deakins was all the way in now, he thought very subtlety but which did not go unnoticed by Bobby.

Bobby stared at him, not offering Deakins the chance to sit.

"I suppose you're here to defend Eames," Bobby said. "Well save your breath."

"Bobby, what happened—"

"What happened," Bobby snarled, "is that she led me into a trap! Goddamnit! You _know_ that! _Why_ are you defending her?"

Deakins refused to take the bait and get angry again. "If you could possibly keep your mouth shut for just a minute and listen, you'd know why,"

"I don't even want to know why! It doesn't matter, it's done." Bobby turned away again, and Deakins wondered how bad Bobby would be were he not on that 'relaxer'.

"Well, you know what?" Deakins demanded. "You are going to listen, like it or not! And after I've had my say, I'll go and leave you to your misery." Deakins stood where Bobby could see him.

"Listen, " he started, "I get that you are hurting, we all do. You were hurt, physically, emotionally, mentally, every way a person could be hurt, you were. And you were hurt bad. But it wasn't Alex who did it! It was McFadden, Bobby, it was McFadden!"

"She led me right into them!" Bobby said, not giving an inch.

"And that is something she's going to have to live with for the rest of her life. You don't think Alex is hurting? She may not be hurting physically, but emotionally, she's a mess. She's thinking of quitting the force, and you know why? Cause she feels she let you down!"

Bobby just glared at him.

"Bobby, she had no choice," Deakins said. "You remember the baby was there, right?"

"I was a little busy at the time. Sorry I didn't notice," he said sarcastically.

"I'll give you that. There's no way you would have noticed with what was happening to you—" He stopped, as Bobby's eyes dropped.

"I'm so sorry, Bobby," Deakins told him. "Bobby I swear to God if I could have taken some of it I would have. I know, I know, empty words. But the truth is I think of you as a son, I love you like a son. And more than anything I wish I could have taken some of your pain."

Bobby looked up at him, his eyes bright with unshed tears. "But you didn't…you couldn't…he wanted me, and he got me. And then he took everything away from me!"

"You listen to me, Bobby. This is not the end! You're better than this, Bobby! I know the kind of man you are and—"

"Yeah? What kind of a man am I?" Bobby challenged. "You tell me. Cause you know what, Captain? I…I don't really think much of myself as a man. Right now? I don't even think of myself as a man at all."

Deakins just stared at him. "Oh, God, Bobby…" 

tbc


	18. Chapter 18

A/N Thanks to all for the reviews, and thanks to blucougar57 for all her help and advice!

Counterplay Chapter 18

"Right now? I don't even think of myself as a man at all."

Deakins just stared at him. "Oh, God, Bobby…"

Instinctively, Deakins moved to put a comforting hand on Bobby's shoulder. Bobby immediately jerked back, hard, then stiffened. And Deakins realized he'd made a big blunder. He'd made a quick move to touch a traumatized rape victim.

"I'm sorry, Bobby." _Holy shit! Can I possibly screw this up any_ _more?_

Bobby felt even more shamed, if possible, for this knee-jerk reaction. "It's…okay," he mumbled, trying to downplay it. "It's…it's me." But the trembling he tried to stop said otherwise.

Deakins was nearly at a loss for words. "No, I, uh…should've known. I shouldn't have done that…touched you so unexpectedly. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," he repeated. "I'm, I'm getting a little tired." Bobby offered them both a way out.

Deakins nodded. "Okay, I'll head on out and let you get a little rest. If there is anything I can do, I can get for you—you name it."

"Could you… just send the nurse back in?"

"Yeah, sure, of course." Deakins went to the door, then turned back. "I know you don't believe this now, Bobby, but you are a bigger man than you'll ever know. At some point in time you'll come to understand this."

The nurse came in a few moments later, already forewarned. Bobby had been having anxiety attacks off and on since the assault, and was now lying back against the pillows, eyes closed, a thin line of perspiration across his forehead, his breathing rapid.

"Mr. Goren, are you okay?" She knew exactly what was wrong.

"Could you--I'm kind of…anxious…"

"You need a little something to relax you?"

He nodded, and she looked at her watch. "Close enough," she said, and injected the contents of the syringe into the IV.

"Thank you," he whispered. As the medicine spread through his system, Bobby marveled sleepily as his body began calming. "Would… I mean, could you just keep this stuff coming?"

"Why don't you just let me know when you think you need it?" she said gently.

Again he nodded. This nurse, Bonnie had been very good to him, and he appreciated her. He couldn't help but wish Annie was here, though, he really missed her. Unfortunately, she'd be off for a while, tending to one of her children who was seriously ill.

Before she left, nurse Bonnie took his vitals, and was pleased. So far there were no signs of a fever, which was the first indication of infection. "You're doing great," she told him. She only wished his mind would heal as well as his body eventually would.

XXX

Deakins, meanwhile, was feeling a little ambiguous about his visit with Bobby. He wasn't sure if it went good or bad. He had felt like he made a little progress with Bobby today in their talk, that maybe Bobby was starting, just a little, to let down some of his defenses. And then he had to go and touch him. As much he would have liked to deny it, as much it bothered him, the thing was that Bobby was a victim of a brutal rape, and needed to be handled with kid gloves. He had tried to touch a rape victim unexpectedly, and no matter how innocent it was, it had brought on another anxiety attack. Bobby had tried to play it down, but it was obvious what it did to him. Sometimes he wondered if his visits were helping or hindering. _Maybe both,_ he thought, and was not sure which was better.

And to top things off, he now had to deal with a distraught Alex Eames.

XXX

The next day at work, Alex knocked on Deakins' door. Deakins sighed, he knew what was coming, and he dreaded it.

"Come in," he said resignedly.

Alex walked in, shoulders slumped, eyes rimmed in red. She'd obviously been crying.

"Captain, I've…I've been thinking…and I think the best thing for me…for Bobby and me…would be for me to give my resignation." She broke down, sobbing miserably.

_My God!_ Deakins thought. _How did things ever progress to this_ _point?_ Less than two years ago, he had been running the most efficient department in the NYPD. His two best detectives, the sometimes quirky but always brilliant and intuitive Bobby Goren, and his very efficient partner Alex Eames worked like a well-oiled machine, having the highest solve rate in the entire police department. Now Bobby was lying in a hospital bed, the victim of a horrendous assault, his job and his very brilliant mind both in jeopardy, while Alex blamed herself and was in the process of ending her own career.

Deakins took Alex by the shoulders and embraced her, waiting until her sobs slowly ebbed.

"Alex, you can't make a decision like this when you're so emotional—"

Alex shook her head. "No, I've been thinking…for awhile. I'm…not good, look at what I did to Bobby…" She broke down again.

"Alex, you didn't do it! For God's sake! It was that asshole McFadden! What the hell is it going to take to convince you?"

"Do you think I want to do this!!" Alex exploded, suddenly angry. "This job was my career…my life! I did not make this decision lightly! Even if Bobby ever does come back to work, he won't want me as a partner! And who else will want to partner with me when they find out…" she was crying again, "what I did to my… partner?"

"Alex," Deakins started, "No matter what you think, you, Bobby, we all, are way too emotional right now to make any important, especially career ending decisions right now. I _will not_ accept your resignation. And I want you to start seeing a therapist, too. I asked you before, now I'm ordering you. You _will_ see a therapist."

"But—" 

"That's an order, Detective."

Alex sniffled a bit, then looked up at Deakins.

"Thank you, Captain," she said gratefully. "I…I don't really want to quit, it's just…I don't want to endanger anyone else…especially my partner."

"And I understand that. But you are not a danger to anyone. You're the one who needs convincing."

"And Bobby," she pointed out.

Deakins smiled wanly. "Yeah, well, don't forget, he's in counseling too. And you have a lot of paperwork to catch up on."

XXX

Two weeks later

Bobby's counseling was actually not going very well. He and the police psychiatrist, Dr. Painter, definitely had not hit it off. Bobby thought Painter was a quack; he could not imagine how this guy ever made it to be a police psychiatrist. They had gotten nothing accomplished; if anything, it was worse. Painter, for his part, thought Bobby was hostile, extremely angry, and quite possibly a danger to others. He hadn't made a final diagnosis, but he was certainly leaning that way.

Bobby made no secret of his disdain for Painter. Painter did not like Bobby, either, but made a point of keeping his feelings to himself. He had his own reasons for that. And despite his personal feelings, he found Bobby a fascinating subject. He would have liked to do a case study on him for publication. But even he knew that Bobby would never agree to that.

When Painter entered his room for their session, Bobby didn't even look up.

"Bobby, are you ready to get started?"

"Not with you." Bobby said.

Painter was more than a little miffed, but made sure not to show it. "Do you have a problem today, Bobby?"

Finally Bobby looked up. "I have a problem with _you_, and your quack methods of counseling!"

"You know," Painter said evenly, "that hostile attitude of yours is getting you nowhere."

"I'm getting nowhere with you now! How much did it cost you to buy that goddamn license anyhow? How the hell did I end up with a quack like you? Where's Skoda? Where's Huang? If you don't mind, I'd prefer one of them."

Painter was scribbling in his tablet. "I see your anger hasn't abated any."

"And it's not likely to as long as I'm seeing you."

Painter smiled. "Huang is out of town, Skoda has taken on some of his caseloads. Neither was available. You were assigned to me, and, like it or not, you're stuck with me. No matter how much you protest, it will not change."

"Then I'll do without counseling."

"Unfortunately, that is not an option. You do realize that it is on my say-so that you get to go back to work? In fact it is on my say-so that you even get out of here? Because right now I'm looking at a man with major depression, a major mood disorder and anger management problems. You might just be here a while."

"You fucking son of a bitch! Is that supposed to be some kind of a threat? Because if it is—"

"Sounds more like you are threatening me." Painter said, writing again. "We'll continue this again next time, Bobby." He got up to leave, feeling very smug, then turned.

"And you will start cooperating. You will have sessions with me. Or I guarantee you will not like the alternative."

Bobby snorted. "And just what is the 'alternative'?" he demanded.

"You're so goddamned smart," Painter said. "You figure it out." With that, he was gone. Bobby had never seen such an unprofessional doctor, at least one that he'd dealt with.

It didn't take a genius to know what Painter had in mind. If Bobby allowed that to happen, it would fulfill his worst nightmare. That _will not_ happen, Bobby determined.

On a brighter note, his injuries appeared to be on the mend. His bruises had faded, the swelling gone down. His shoulders were healing, in another week or so, his arms could be released from the immobilizers, in fact, one was out for a few hours each day.

Bobby's biggest problems right now was the site of the surgery, which was still very painful, and his ribs. Both made it difficult to walk, so when he was helped out of bed, he didn't wander too far. But, he was _out_ of bed! And, best of all, no sign of the deadly infection that had claimed Luke's life.

Now all Bobby had to do was hold his own with that quack for a couple more weeks, (much easier with a shrink who was not himself insane) and he was home free. The only question was, home to what?


	19. Chapter 19

Counterplay Chapter 19

Jim Deakins came to visit Bobby almost everyday in the evenings, or at least attempted to. Sometimes things went better than others; Bobby had his good days, and Bobby had his bad days. Because of the fact he had a less than competent therapist, his bad days outnumbered his good days by a goodly amount, and the mood swings were sometimes pretty hard to take. It seemed like Bobby was either incredibly angry or so down he would barely speak. This frustrated Deakins, it seemed with Bobby that it was two steps ahead, one step backwards. Then just the opposite. And waiting in the wings was Dr. Painter, dying to slap a "manic-depressive" label on him. The only thing missing was the "highs." Bobby never had any highs.

He was however, talking, to Deakins, at least. He was actually doing better talking with Deakins that his so-called therapist and for the most part, he'd started looking forward to these visits.

The only thing Bobby would refuse to talk about was Alex. Occasionally Deakins would bring up the subject of Alex, and in addition to Bobby's other problems, he'd suddenly go deaf.

"Goddamnit, Bobby!" Deakins said, frustrated. "You can be 'deaf' all you want, but I'm gonna talk anyway!"

Bobby glared at him, but Deakins went on anyway. It had been over three weeks since the big blowup, and neither Bobby nor Alex had seen or spoken to the other since.

"Bobby, do you know why Alex had you come to her house that night?"

_Because she's a fucking traitor,_ he thought to himself, not wanting to get Deakins started again. He was totally unwilling to acknowledge anything Deakins had to say about Alex.

"She had to, Bobby, because of her nephew."

Finally Bobby spoke. "You've said that before. What about him? So how come _I _don't remember anything about him?"

Deakins looked mystified. "I…don't know. That's something you'll have to take up with your therapist."

"Hah!" Bobby snorted. "Eames' bird could probably tell me more!" Deakins couldn't help a little smile as _that_ image went through his mind.

Bobby caught the little smile, and scowled.

Before Bobby could say anything though, Deakins said, "Bobby, you've got to let her explain."

"Won't do any good."

"Then it won't hurt to listen."

"Yeah? You sure about that?"

Deakins sighed. "At this point in time I'm really not sure of anything," he said truthfully. "What I do know is this thing with you and Eames won't be fixed by doing nothing. It will only—"

"You're assuming I _want_ it fixed," Bobby interrupted.

Deakins glared at him. "Yes, goddamnit! I _am_ assuming you want it fixed! _I_ want it fixed! _Eames_ wants it fixed! And damn it, Bobby, I know deep down _you_ want it fixed!"

Bobby said nothing, just stared down at his hands.

Deakins continued. "Do you want your partnership with Alex to end? Do you really hate her that much?"

Now Bobby looked up. "I _don't_ hate her," Bobby said softly. "But she hurt me bad…physically, emotionally---I…I don't know what I feel, I don't even know what I'm _supposed_ to feel."

"You're not _supposed_ to feel any certain way, Bobby, you know that. You feel what you feel. God, I wish Huang was your doctor!"

Bobby gave a wan smile. "You and me both. I'm just fucked up, y'know? I don't feel anything—good, bad, nothing. I guess it's these pills I'm on."

Deakins nodded in understanding, and he wanted to deny Bobby's last statement, but, right at the moment, Bobby really _was_ fucked up. For a moment, neither said anything. Finally Bobby said, "Okay."

Deakins looked up slowly. "What did you say?"

"I said, okay."

"Okay…what?" Deakins said cautiously.

"Okay, I'll see Alex."

Deakins grinned. "You've made me a very happy man, Bobby," he enthused.

There was no reaction from Bobby. "So when do you want to set up this little meeting?"

"Whenever you're ready, Bobby. Just say the word."

"Let's just get it over with. Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow it is then." Deakins couldn't help the silly grin on his face. "I'm going to take off then, Bobby, and let Alex know. And we'll both see you tomorrow."

Bobby nodded, watching as Deakins left. He hoped like hell that he had made the right decision; that he was ready for this and hadn't made a big mistake.

XXX

Jim Deakins hoped the same thing, as he sat with his wife in the living room that night, telling her of the day's events.

"I just wish Bobby had got as lucky with a therapist as he did with his physical doctors," he lamented. "If he doesn't get the proper treatment it could delay his return to work—"

"Jim," Angie interrupted.

"What?" He looked up in surprise.

"Bobby is in therapy, such as it is, and now Alex is in therapy." There was a long pause.

"Is there a point you'd like to make?" he asked when she didn't continue.

"Yes, the point I'd like to make is—why aren't _you_ in therapy?"

"Me? Why would I be in therapy?"

Angie shook her head. "Y'know, sometimes you can be a stubborn as you claim Bobby is! Were you or were you not held at gunpoint along with Bobby and Alex?"

"Yes—but—" he sputtered.

"And were you or were you not tied up, as was Bobby and Alex?"

"Yes, but I wasn't hurt!" he said, almost angrily. "I'm not the one they—"

"Jim! Listen to yourself!" Angie said. "If Bobby, or any one of your detectives was held at gunpoint, wouldn't you insist on therapy, or at least talking to a therapist, and letting the therapist take it from there?"

"Well, yeah, but—"

"No 'buts' Jim."

Deakins looked at his still beautiful wife of many years. "As always, the voice of reason," he said affectionately. Then, teasing her, he muttered, "Next thing you know the whole NYPD will be in therapy."

She teased him right back. "Jim, I've told you a _million_ times—stop exaggerating! Besides, half of them could probably use it."

"Okay," he finally said, "you're probably right, I'll look into it very soon." And with that, he gave his wife a long lingering kiss.

XXX

If Bobby and Deakins had been nervous about the upcoming meeting, Alex was petrified.

When Deakins had first told Alex about the meeting, she'd been ecstatic, and just as suddenly was scared. This was the thing she'd been praying for, for so long. It was also the thing she'd been dreading the most.

She worried the whole rest of the night. She longed to get her relationship with Bobby, their friendship, and their partnership, back to where it had been—if that was even possible. But she wanted it so badly.

On the other hand, she wasn't sure she could handle another one of Bobby's verbal assaults, should he decide to go that way. That last one had been terrible—not that she didn't think she deserved it. Or maybe more to the point, Bobby had needed to get it out at the person he thought was the one responsible for his condition—her—regardless of the circumstances.

She thought about bringing her little nephew with her tomorrow, and explaining to Bobby that this, the baby, was why she had done it, and that, through his suffering, Bobby had saved his life. Maybe if Bobby saw the baby… but no, she wouldn't play on his emotions and sense of duty like that. That was the last thing Bobby needed, more emotional turmoil. She would give Bobby the facts, and let Bobby take it from there. Everything after that would be up to him.

XXX

The next evening after work, Deakins and Alex arrived at the hospital. To say that this was a tense moment would be an understatement of the grandest proportions.

No one had had a great day.

Bobby had not had a good day, he hadn't felt well, and the doctors discovered he was running a low-grade fever. His doctor was worried, but not overly, there was still no sign of infection. But he wanted to keep a close eye on him. Bobby was also slightly agitated, not feeling well and knowing about the fever.

Alex had not slept a wink the night before, and was distracted all day at work. She kept going over and over in her head what she was wanted to say to Bobby.

And Deakins was just worried that this whole thing would just blow up in his face. This could make or break Major Case's best detective team, _**his**_ detectives, "The Dynamic Duo," as they were commonly known throughout the NYPD. This was the last thing he wanted to happen. This meeting _had_ to work.

Before going into Bobby's room they stopped at the Nurses' station, where Deakins inquired about Bobby's condition, only to be told about the fever.

"He hasn't felt well all day," Nurse Bonnie told them, "and I have to warn you, he hasn't been in a good mood all day."

Deakins looked at Alex. "What do you think?" he asked her. "Want to do this another day? I'll go in and explain—"

"Explain what?" Alex asked. "That we didn't come in because he's sick? That's when he needs us most."

Deakins nodded. "Then let's do it." he said.

tbc


	20. Chapter 20

Counterplay Chapter 20 

The previous night, Bobby racked his mind to come up with any memories of Alex's nephew that fateful night. He came up blank. His last memory of the baby at all was Alex calling to say her sister had picked him up. That was what stuck in his mind, the fact that the baby was gone.

Bobby was standing at the window now, contemplating the upcoming meeting between Alex and himself. He resolved to remain calm, no matter what, to not go off on Alex. He was dressed in pajama pants, and a robe. He was shirtless, but hardly needed one as the tape covering his broken ribs covered pretty much of his chest. Above the tape, and at almost any place where skin showed, there were still the remnants of the horrible beating his entire body had taken, deep bruises that were now fading, in various shades of purple, green and yellow. He was somewhat surprised to find his cheekbone still intact. McFadden had obviously forgotten about the broken cheekbone, or he'd have definitely done more damage there. _Thank God for small favors_, he thought. That was just one less thing to worry about.

Deakins knocked softly at the door, then he and Alex entered. Bobby glanced at them from the window, and immediately upon seeing Alex the feeling of shame overwhelmed him. All he could see was _her_ seeing him naked. He could feel himself starting to close down. It took everything he had in him to prevent it, and he wasn't entirely successful. He would talk to her, but it was if it was another person doing it.

"Hi, Bobby," Alex said softly. Bobby nodded, barely perceptively, and looked down. Alex glanced at Deakins, who just nodded towards Bobby, encouraging her.

She took a deep breath. "Bobby, I was hoping we could discuss—talk—a little about what happened."

Bobby frowned slightly, already wishing he had not agreed to this, and despite his resolve to stay civil, found he could not keep the bitterness out of his voice. "What's there to talk about?" he demanded.

Alex looked to Deakins again, not saying it but her glare making it obvious. _Why the hell are we doing this? What the hell is the point?_

Deakins then gave Bobby a what-the-fuck? look.

"Ah, sit down," Bobby finally mumbled. With his good arm, he indicated the two chairs in the room. He still wasn't all that physically comfortable sitting down, so he continued to stand at the window. Plus it was difficult to pace sitting down.

Alex wasn't exactly sure what she expected Bobby to look like, but it wasn't this. She expected him to still be battered and bruised, but there was something else. She couldn't put her finger on it.

Deakins noticed it too. "Bobby, you okay?" he asked, concern evident in his voice.

Bobby gestured with his left hand. "Uh, I've got a low-grade fever…"

"Okay," Deakins said. "You sure you're up for this?"

Bobby shrugged. "Nothing to worry about, they say."

A short interval of silence ensued. Bobby said nothing, and didn't seem inclined to. If Alex wanted to talk, she'd have to be the one to put forth the effort.

She started hesitantly. "Bobby, please, will you listen to what I have to say?"

Bobby closed his eyes momentarily. He _really_ did not want to do this. He still could not get the image of himself being tied down back in that room out of his mind, or the image of them watching him being hurt and humiliated so badly. The shame was almost too much to bear. But he pulled out everything he had and went for it. "Okay," he said softly. He couldn't meet their eyes.

"Without interrupting?"

"I'll…try."

Alex nodded. She had already gotten further than she thought she would. "Bobby, first I want to tell you what happened…before. I told you I was going to babysit Nathan instead of going with you to the sentencing and then out."

Bobby frowned again. The first betrayal. That had hurt when she hadn't accompanied him to the sentencing.

Alex saw the frown and hastened to continue. "Bobby, I am so sorry about that. If I could do anything over, it would be that. If I had just gone with you to the sentencing, I'd never have had Nathan, and…and…nothing would have happened."

Bobby just continued looking down, feeling a little more self-conscious, knowing that the conversation was shortly coming to his assault.

Alex continued. "Bobby, he—they—came to my house. They just pushed their way in…they grabbed the baby…held him by the neck…said they'd kill him if I didn't do what they wanted. I—I thought they were going to rape me. I just begged them not to hurt the baby, not to rape me. And they didn't…He—he said he wanted _you."_ Alex started to cry softly, tears running down her cheeks.

Bobby stiffened. He hadn't heard any of this before. He hated hearing what Alex was saying, hated what she had gone through, and hated the implication of McFadden saying, "he wanted _you_."

"When I realized what they were saying, Bobby, I swear to God I tried to talk them out of it! I begged them, but they just laughed. They said they had big plans for you, and—and—I tried, but they kept threatening the baby. I was so scared! But Bobby, I didn't know they were going to do all that they did to you—"

"What?" Bobby finally spoke. "You thought they were going to 'just' kill me?" He was angry, but to his credit did not lose his temper. What had she thought they'd do to him?

"No," Alex sniffled, "I had no idea…"

"But it didn't matter anyway, right?" Bobby said bitterly. "No matter what they did to me, it was all right…as long as you and the baby were okay?"

"No! It was not all right! But I couldn't let them kill the baby! And I wasn't good enough for them. I'm so sorry," she repeated, as the tears fell faster now. "I am so sorry! Please, Bobby, can you find it in you somewhere to forgive me? Or at least understand?"

Bobby sighed. "Eames, I didn't…I'm not sure I really know exactly what happened to me. I know what I've been _told_ happened, and bits and pieces…I can't remember a lot, and I honestly do not remember your nephew being there."

Deakins started to say something, and Bobby held up his hand defensively. "I'm not saying he wasn't there, I'm saying I don't remember it."

Deakins agreed. "And that is understandable, Bobby. You've been through an incredible amount, a horrible ordeal. I'm sure even _your_ therapist would agree that some memory loss was to be expected."

Thinking momentarily of his therapist Bobby said, "That's a whole different story. But what I'm saying, Eames, is that I don't remember your nephew being there."

"That'll probably come back to you sometime, Bobby," Alex told him.

_Yeah, along with everything else_, Bobby thought. And that wasn't something he was looking forward to.

"Yeah, well what I do remember is—your house, _you handcuffing me,_ (Alex looked away at this) them beating and kicking the shit out of me, and then…being stripped…"

"Bobby—" Alex started.

"Don't!" Bobby said vehemently, his arm jutting out, palm out defensively. "Don't even tell me it doesn't matter—it does! It matters a helluva lot! And don't tell me it's okay, cause it's not. And don't tell me that when you look at me you don't see me as a victim, naked, tied down and being fucked by three men. At least be honest with me!"

For a moment Alex didn't know what to say. Finally she gathered her thoughts.

"Alright, Bobby. You are right, I was going to say it didn't matter—of course it matters, it matters a great deal. But what I meant was it doesn't matter to me whether I've seen you _naked_ or not. That's not what matters to me. What matters to me is _you_, Bobby Goren, my partner, my best friend. And the strongest man I've ever known. They can't change that, Bobby, no matter how much they try. It took three of them, Bobby, in a surprise attack to take you down. You weren't, and aren't, a helpless victim. McFadden tried to break us up—our partnership, our friendship…Don't let him win, Bobby."

"She's right, Bobby," Deakins added. "McFadden—he tried to put a wedge between you, making Alex the bad guy. Just another way to hurt you."

Alex went on. "I swear to God, Bobby, I would never have done this to you if there had been another way out…"

"I know that Alex. I know you wouldn't deliberately do this to me, hurt me like this." He sighed. "And the truth is, if they hadn't gotten to me through you, they would have found another way, I know that. If someone wants you bad enough, they're going to get you. He could've gotten to me right outside One Police Plaza, or in the parking garage. The thing is, he did get to me through you, and if he could do it…"

"Bobby, please! Those were extenuating circumstances! If I'd been alone, they could have done anything they wanted, and I'd have never given you up! It was the baby…" She looked at him with pleading eyes.

"Must be nice to be first in someone's life," Bobby said bitterly.

"What?"

Bobby looked at her for a moment. "At the risk of garnering any more sympathy or pity, I said it must be nice to be first in someone's--anyone's-- life."

Deakins and Alex looked at each other for a moment, realizing with a start that Bobby had never been first in anyone's life—ever.

To his dismay, Bobby finally broke down a little. He turned back to the window, and lowered his head. His voice was barely more than a whisper. "Do you know what it is like, to have never been first in anyone's life? No one to love and cherish you above all others…even my parents. Frank was their boy. I was just the little after-thought…"

Thoughts of her childhood flashed through Alex's head in mere seconds, thoughts of her normal childhood. Despite being one of several children, her parents made each of their children feel special, because each of them was special. And during her time with Joe, even with the little ups and downs of married life, Joe had cherished her as no one ever had. Alex had felt special, safe and loved her entire life.

Deakins could pretty much say the same thing. Angie has been madly in love with him, and he with her, for the last twenty five years.

Bobby had no one. Bobby had never had anyone. Even as a child, before he even realized what was happening, Bobby had felt like there was a big hole in his little heart. And it never went away, only grew larger as his heart grew bigger. But as an adult, he knew. He had never been first with anyone, not even Alex. He might be her partner and best friend, but baby Nathan was her number one guy.

Alex felt terrible. "I'm not going to tell you that I understand what that feels like, because I can't, other than to say that it must hurt like hell. And without pitying you, I will say that I am truly sorry that it was, and is, that way for you."

Bobby nodded, and they both couldn't help but notice how bright his eyes were.

Finally, knowing Alex was looking for some kind of resolution, he said, "I can't say that I forgive you Alex, or that I trust you. But I understand…I just need some time, y'know?"

Alex nodded, grateful for that much. "C-Can I come back?"

"If you want."

"I do want," she said, letting out a big breath. "Thank you, Bobby. And I promise, I will do anything…whatever…to win back your trust. And your forgiveness."

Bobby didn't say anything. In fact, he looked exhausted. Apparently this talk had taken a lot more out of him than they'd realized. "Uh, I'm a little tired," he finally said.

Deakins guided him over to the bed. "Get some sleep, Bobby," he told him, unnecessarily, as it turned out. A moment later Bobby was asleep.

tbc


	21. Chapter 21

Counterplay Chapter 21 

Eames took it upon herself to visit Bobby the following day, and upon arriving, found his door closed. She went to the nurses' station, where Bonnie informed her that some doctors were in with him; she was welcome to wait though.

After what seemed forever, finally two men emerged, closing the door behind them (which only partially closed), both shaking their heads. Alex' heart jumped into her throat, immediately she came to the conclusion that something was terribly wrong. She practically ran to Bobby's room, stepping in, then stopped. She could hear voices, angry voices, one of them Bobby's, the other obviously still another doctor.

"…So damn smart!" is what she picked up first, from none other than Doctor Painter. "That's the second time you've contradicted me and humiliated me in front of my colleagues!"

"So next time get your shit right!" Bobby said angrily. "Especially when it concerns me!"

"You arrogant son of a bitch!" Painter was furious. He looked like a rank amateur, compared to Bobby, in front of the other two doctors, one of whom was his superior. "You know, I can fix you good. I'll claim you attacked me, and I'll have you sedated and ship your ass right off to the psyche ward. You'll never get out of here! I'll—"

"You'll what?" Alex demanded, no longer able to listen to this.

Painter froze, then turned to face Alex. "Who the hell are you?" he practically screamed. "And by the way, get out! This is a private counseling session!"

"Sounds more like a private abuse session," Alex continued. "I'm Detective Alex Eames, and you just threatened my partner—"

"He's a dangerous man! To himself, others, me…"

"_He's_ dangerous?" Alex asked incredulously. "I think _you_ are the dangerous one! And if you attempt to sedate him, or touch him physically in any way, I'll see to it that you lose your license."

Painter stood there with his mouth open, not sure what to make of Alex or the situation.

Bobby was at first surprised by the exchange, then amused.

"In fact," Alex went on, "It might be better for all concerned if you removed yourself from his case, entirely."

Painter was angry again, and stubborn. "No fucking way! He's my patient, and he'll remain my patient till I say otherwise! He's threatened suicide," he lied. "I'm only trying to help him!" This quack neglected to say Bobby was also his perceived ticket to the big time, when he writes his big expose on the effects of rape on males in a predominantly male work force. And specifically on a certain NYPD detective.

"You know I just told you I was a detective, and I'll bet if I put my mind to it I could come up with a few more patients you've abused…"

Painter stood there with his mouth gaping, then finally said, "We…uh, we'll see about that." He stalked past Eames right out the door.

Bobby and Alex both watched Painter leave, then both laughed, and Bobby said softly, "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Alex replied. "Not that you can't take care of yourself."

"I know. It's just…nice."

Alex looked a little embarrassed, then said "Wow! Is that guy for real?"

"Pretty much so. Usually he's worse."

"Has he ever done that to you?"

"What?"

"Sedated you for no reason?"

Bobby grew quiet. Alex waited, and finally she said, "He has, hasn't he? Oh my God, Bobby!"

"It wasn't that often. Since he couldn't win an argument he figured he'd shut me up one way or another. He only did it when I contradicted him or pointed out some gross unimaginable inaccuracy."

"In other words, all the time."

Bobby smiled. "I _did_ piss him off a lot. The thing is, it seems it's getting harder and harder to come out of it…the sedatives. I think he may be upping the dosage."

"Bobby, why didn't you say something?"

Bobby's eyes took on a steely look. "Oh, don't worry, this guy is going down. Him and a few others."

Eames nodded. "I'm right with ya."

For a moment Alex thought it was almost like things were back to normal. Bobby coughed a little, and she asked, "How have you been feeling?"

"Not too bad. Still the low-grade fever, and a little cough."

Things got a little awkward again. They talked a little, small talk, and after a bit Alex left, saying she'd be back again. Bobby didn't protest, which she took as a good sign.

XXX

When James Deakins went to visit Bobby again the next day, he expected him to be even better.

But Bobby didn't look so good. He was sitting on the side of the bed, drawing in a deep breath.

"Hey, Bobby, how ya feeling?" Deakins asked.

Bobby coughed. "Like shit. Think I'm coming down with something." He coughed again, hard.

"That doesn't sound good," Deakins said. He didn't like the sound of the cough. "Damn, Bobby, that's a nasty cough you've got there."

"I know. It'll be okay," Bobby said. It wasn't easy to tell whom Bobby was trying to convince, himself or Deakins.

Deakins watched Bobby for a moment, frowning. "You take care of yourself, Bobby. That's an order."

Bobby smiled slightly. "Yeah, I will." He started coughing again.

"I assume your doctors and nurses know about this little 'something' you're coming down with?"

"Well, they upped my antibiotics a little."

"Okay," Deakins said, satisfied.

Deakins visited with Bobby for over an hour. "Well, guess I'll get going before Angie starts thinking I got lost. Remember what I said, okay? Goodnight Bobby."

XXX

If there was one thing Jimmy Deakins hated, it was those middle of the night phone calls. It was either bad news or a call to a crime scene. Tonight was no exception. So when the phone rang at four a.m. Deakins groaned and reached for the phone, still lying in bed half asleep. He almost knocked it off the nightstand.

"Deakins" he answered.

"Hello, Mr. Deakins? This is Cindy Towers, I'm Robert Goren's nurse at Mt. Sinai. I understand you are the family contact for Robert Goren?"

Deakins shot up in bed. "Yes! What? Is everything okay? I—"

"Jimmy…who is it?" Angie murmured sleepily, turning over.

"Honey, just a second…Ms. Towers, is Bobby alright?"

"Mr. Deakins, I'm afraid Robert's condition has deteriorated."

Deakins was surprised, and said. "What the--I just saw him yesterday! What's wrong with him?"

"Robert's fever escalated dramatically, and he has developed an infection that has led to pneumonia."

Deakins mind shot back to Luke, and the fate that befell him.

"He's going to be alright, though?"

"Actually, Mr. Deakins, I think perhaps you should come in…"

Deakins was stunned, he didn't say anything for a moment. "Of course. I'll uh, be right there." Deakins fell back against his pillow, and Angie sat up.

"Jimmy…"

"Jesus, Angie! I just saw him yesterday! He was doing fine! I don't understand what—"

"Jimmy, get up. We've got to go," Angie said, getting out of bed. Deakins looked at his wife, grateful that she was going to accompany him. Both of them dressed quickly, and Angie said, "Jimmy, maybe you should call Alex."

Deakins hesitated. "I don't know, maybe I should wait to see for myself how he is. I don't want—"

"Honey, why do you think they called you?" She let that sink in for a moment, then said softly, "Call her, Jimmy."

"Alright," he agreed, "But on the way. I want to get there as soon as possible."

As they were driving, Angie dialed Alex's number ant gave it to Deakins. Waiting for her to answer, he took a deep breath.

xxx

Alex wasn't any more happy about a middle of the night phone call than Deakins was.

"Eames," she said groggily.

"Alex? This is Deakins."

"Yes?'' she asked, although she knew it was another call out. She sighed.

"Alex? Get dressed. It's…it's…Bobby."

Alex's heart skipped a beat. "W-What?"

"Alex, Bobby's taken a turn for the worse. You better get down to the hospital--now. We'll meet you there."

"Okay," she whispered, then set the phone back down. _Oh, God! _she prayed. _Please don't let anything happen to him. Please God…_

xxx

Arriving at the hospital, Alex caught up with the Deakins.

"Well?" she demanded, visibly upset. "How is he? Have you heard anything?"

"He's in intensive care," Deakins said. He appeared to be very down. They were taken to Bobby's room in the ICU, where they waited outside. A somber looking doctor came out and spoke to them.

"Robert—Bobby—is not doing well at the moment. I won't lie to you. Despite our best efforts, he's developed a severe infection, leading into pneumonia. His temperature shot up to 105 degrees. In addition, he's having extreme chest pain, and he is on oxygen. We're giving him pain medication for his chest, and we have started him on a new super-antibiotic."

"Chest pain? Why?" Alex asked, very scared. "Why would he be having chest pains?'

"Chest pain," the doctor corrected. "His lungs are totally congested right now, he's having difficulty breathing, and it is very painful, so much so that he required the pain medication."

"What's the bottom line, Doctor?" Deakins didn't want to, but he had to ask.

The doctor shook his head, and Alex gasped. Angie also appeared to be in shock. Deakins knew he had to be the strong one.

"It's all up to him," the doctor said. "We're doing everything we possibly can."

"Can…Can we see him?" Alex asked softly.

"Yes. Just one of you at a time, of course."

"Go ahead, Alex," Deakins and Angie both encouraged her, knowing how badly she wanted to be in there with him.

Alex walked in very tentatively, actually a little frightened at what she might find. Bobby was lying in the bed, and looked every bit as bad as the doctor said he was. His lips had a bluish tint to them, and picking up his hand, she saw that the skin under his nails was blue, too. His lungs were very congested, and the doctors had him on oxygen. His fever was so high, he seemed to be in and out of delirium, and his body was glistening with sweat.

"Bobby?" Alex whispered, picking up his hand and gently stroking it. _Oh_ _my God he is so hot! _She thought. At first he didn't seem to realize she was there; finally he seemed to recognize her.

"Bobby, I…I…" Alex could hardly speak through her tears and the big lump in her throat, and Bobby didn't have the strength. He was in and out of consciousness again.

"Bobby, please , you've got to pull through this…" she was crying softly, her tears falling on the hand she was holding. "If you have anything in you at all, please just… pull through. I—I love you Bobby, and I'm just so sorry…" Now she was outright weeping, and Bobby's body seemed to jerk in reaction.

She continued sitting with him, her fingers stroking back his damp curls over and over. "Bobby, I-I promise you…I will get McFadden. That son of a bitch will not get away with this, I swear to God, Bobby, " she was sobbing, "If it is the last thing I ever do on this earth I will get him." She looked at him sadly. "Bobby, can you ever forgive me? I am so sorry… Please say you forgive me…" The tears just rolled down her face, and she was caressing his hand with her wet cheek. "Bobby?" She watched him again, For a moment she thought he had woke up and squeezed her hand. She looked at him, but other than his chest moving steadily up and down, she could see no other movement. But he had squeezed her hand, she knew it! Somewhere in her she knew that Bobby had forgiven her.

tbc


	22. Chapter 22

Thanks to blucougar, for everything, and to Infinity Star for the medical help.

Counterplay Chapter 22

Bobby Goren was a very sick man. He was in ICU, needing every bit of the frenzied attention being given to him. His fever was still accelerating, now dangerously high. They pumped ibuprofen into him and bathed him continuously with lukewarm-to-cool water in an attempt to bring it down, even as the infection seemed to rage out of control. The congestion from the pneumonia was still bad, making his breathing difficult and the chest very painful. His breaths were more shallow now, partly because it just hurt so much to breathe, partly because he was so exhausted. For that they were using a broncodilator with saline or xopanex to try to relieve some of the congestion and fluid buildup, along with vancomycin for the infection. He had been in and out of consciousness for a while, but now it seemed the consciousness was giving way to the unconsciousness for much longer periods of time. His doctors were doing everything they could, determined that he would not slip into a coma.

Alex waited sadly in the outer room with the Deakins.

"He's not getting better," she told them, the words coming out very unemotionally, as she attempted to convince herself this really wasn't happening. She seemed to be in another place, where, they didn't know, just someplace that wasn't here. And so far she seemed in total control of her emotions.

Angie hugged her. "I know, honey," she said soothingly. "We've just got to put our trust in God now, that He'll do—"

"God?!" Alex said angrily, pulling away. "**God?** Where was _**God**_ when this was happening to Bobby?! Where was _**God**_ when McFadden was torturing him?! And why is _**God**_ doing this to him now?" Suddenly her hands covered her face, and she turned away, literally sobbing, finally sinking into a chair in the corner.

Angie started to go to her, but Jim put a hand on her arm, shaking his head. "Let her go," he said very quietly, "She needs this."

Angie nodded. She was miserable herself. Although she didn't see them very often, she felt very close to Bobby and Alex, much more than any of Jim's other detectives. She heard about their antics, especially Bobby's, nearly every day. As Jimmy would tell her about the day's events, he always included a "Bobbyism," some little stunt or idea that emerged from that brilliant mind. Of course, it wasn't all good what he had to say, sometimes he was totally frustrated with them. But they were his best detectives, and they meant the world to him. Angie could just picture all the little schemes and activities that went on daily. Tears built up in her eyes, and despite what anyone else thought or did, she _did_ have faith in God.

Finally, Jimmy and Angie walked over to Alex, and Jimmy put a hand on her heaving shoulders.

At last Alex took one more hitching sob, then looked up to them gratefully.

"I'm…sorry. I…I didn't mean that—"

"It's okay, Alex," Angie rubbed her back gently. "We know that, and we know that you have faith in some kind of a higher power. And it's okay to rant, to let it out. We all need that. Really, we understand."

"If it's okay to let it out, then why am I the only one doing it?" Huge tears just rolled down her cheeks.

"We all have our own ways of 'letting it out' Alex. My way, which you may or may not agree with, is prayer. In fact, in a few minutes I'll be going down to the hospital chapel. You are welcome to join me if you like."

"Thanks," Alex said, really meaning it, "but I'll wait here. They…may need me…" She finally managed a little smile. "Say one for me?" What she didn't say, but thought, was that they may call her in to say good-bye. Or maybe to tell her he'd woke up. Either way, she _had_ to be here.

xxx

Despite an ABP put out on him since the day of his escape, James McFadden remained on the loose. He was holed up in the basement of a seedy little bar in Jersey City. The owner of the bar, Duke Myers, was an old acquaintance of his from a long time ago, way back in high school, and was not particularly thrilled with the idea of aiding and abetting a fugitive. But he had heard what he'd done to that cop, a detective with the NYPD, no less, so what chance did he have? He wasn't about to displease McFadden in any way. Not someone who had the balls to imprison three NYPD detectives, and torture and nearly kill an one of them.

It was getting pretty hard to take, though. Day in and day out, all McFadden did was eat and drink (at Duke's expense), play cards, and brag excessively about what he had done to that cop. How he'd humiliated him in front of other cops, stripped him and tied him to a bed, then he and his friends raped him repeatedly until the blood ran freely, THEN used a broken broom handle on him. Every time a drunken McFadden laughed and went on about it, shudders ran through Duke's body. He could not comprehend the utter callousness this man had for that cop.

"Hey, Dukie!" McFadden called out. "How about another round here? Me and the boys are…thirsty." McFadden was already so drunk he could hardly remember the word "thirsty."

"Yeah, yeah, coming right up," Duke said sullenly. Not only was he using up his whiskey and food on these dead beats, he had to wait on them, too.

As he brought another bottle over to their table where McFadden, Micks, and Wilson sat with their cards, McFadden looked at him angrily. "Hey, Dukie, lose the attitude, huh! I told you, you're gonna get paid for all this crap. And I gotta tell ya… Dukie, this stuff _is_ crap." His cigarette falling out of his mouth, McFadden continued. "Those steaks last night were so tough…(he couldn't think of the right words)… we could hardly eat 'em."

_Didn't stop ya from wanting more though, you cheap bastard,_ Duke thought.

Suddenly McFadden jumped up, as his cigarette burned his leg. "Son of a fucking bitch!" he screamed, causing all three of them to back up. He knocked everything off the table in drunken anger. "I'm telling you, Duke, you better start coming up with some thing that's edible, or I'm gonna put a bullet through your fucking head! Got it?!"

"Yeah, yeah, Jimmy! I'll go out and get some good steaks myself!"

"See that…you do." McFadden sat there a few minutes, apparently staring at nothing, then he said, "When did I tell Bobby," he laughed crudely, "my _close_ personal friend Bobby…that I was coming…back for him?" His eyes were so bloodshot, tired and red, they hurt.

"Um…you said not for a long time," Micks said, knowing it was way too soon for them to attempt to show themselves in public.

"Oh…okay…I gotta kidnap him, you know? I'm…bored. I wanna do him again…"

"Yeah, we know," Wilson said. "But ya gotta let him get better first. Then when he thinks things are okay, that's when we get him. Okay?" He, too, had no desire just yet to go out in public, not with that APB still in effect.

McFadden rested his arms on the table, so he could lay his head down. He mumbled something, all they could make out was "that filthy fucking cop." A few minutes later, they could hear the regular breathing and knew he was asleep.

Wilson and Micks looked at each other.

"Jesus Christ!" Wilson said, shaking his head. Micks nodded, knowing what Wilson meant. If they hadn't known it before, they knew it now after spending all this time with him. They were holed up with a madman.

xxx

Back at the hospital, while Angie was in the chapel, Deakins and Alex sat and stared at the walls. Neither said anything, just waited.

Deakins was the first to break the silence. He knew they had to let others in on this, too, but Bobby was really pretty much alone in this world. They'd never known how to get in touch with his brother, and Bobby had told him recently that his mother had suffered another serious psychotic break—she'd be unavailable or unable to respond. That left one person. "What do you think, Alex? Should we call Lewis?"

The words shocked Alex out of her stupor. "No!" she said vehemently.

Deakins looked at her, surprised at her outburst. "Why…not? Alex, he's Bobby's best friend…"

"Because Bobby is going to be okay!! We don't need to call everybody in, like he was dying! He's going to be okay…" But even as she said it, she knew it might not be so. "Go ahead," she finally said as the tears built up again. "Call him."

xxx

This was the call Lewis had been dreading all his life. He'd always worried about Bobby, with all the dangers associated with being a cop. But this? He'd visited Bobby in the hospital not too long ago, and things had seemed, well, not good, but certainly not this bad.

As he drove to the hospital, all he could think of were the old days. Jesus! He and Bobby had grown up together, done everything together, been through it all together. He remembered the times when a little seven-year old Bobby had come to his house, scared to death. His dad was always gone, and his mom was at him all the time. Sometimes he'd be hurt and badly beaten, other times just terribly afraid of his crazy mother and what she might do to him. Other times he was there just to tell Lewis how sad he was, and he would cry. Always, Lewis' family had taken this scared little boy in. Yet, somehow, Bobby had always survived. Lewis' bespectacled eyes welled up. Bobby had survived the worst a kid could get. And now he might die because of what a deranged lunatic had done to him? No way! Lewis was convinced this was not going to happen, if for only one reason: Bobby Goren was a survivor.

tbc


	23. Chapter 23

Counterplay Chapter 23

Deakins finally brought up a subject no one really wanted to discuss, whether or not to tell Bobby's mother about her son.

"She's just coming back from a major break," Deakins said.

"It's not like it hasn't happened before," Alex countered. "This is something she needs to know."

"But something this drastic, it could push her over the edge to where she may never come back."

They went back and forth over this, and finally Angie brought up the deciding point. "Jimmy! This is her son! He could very well die. Then what will happen to her? She has to be told!"

"Guess that's the bottom line then. But ultimately the final decision lies with her doctor, Doctor…uh…"

"Shimo," Alex supplied.

"Shimo? Is that it? I never really knew his name…" Deakins faltered.

Alex looked at Angie. "Bobby never speaks much about his family," she explained.

Angie nodded, she was well aware of Bobby's idiosyncrasies

"Guess I'd better put in that call to Doctor Shimo," Deakins said.

Xxxx

A little later, Deakins returned. "Shimo wasn't very happy about it, but he's letting her come. She'll be accompanied by a nurse and an orderly."

Angie and Alex were both glad that Frances Goren could come, but sad because of the reason: the possibility of saying goodbye to her son.

Xxx

When Lewis entered the waiting room at the hospital, it was a very somber group that met him. Alex came up to him and put her arms around him. "Detective Alex," he greeted her softly.

"Lewis," Alex said. She had been determined to hold up, but seeing Bobby's best friend Lewis broke down her resolve. Once again the tears started trickling down her cheeks.

"Lewis, he's so…sick, he's so—"

"He'll be okay, Detective Alex," Lewis told her.

"Lewis, you haven't seen him—"

"Bobby's a survivor!" Lewis declared. "After what he went through as a kid he can survive anything."

Alex looked at him for a moment, then nodded. If nothing else, she believed in his faith. "I guess you want to see him?" She took his hand and led him to Bobby's room, then left, to give him some privacy.

Despite his faith in Bobby's survival, he was shocked at his appearance. He had never seen Bobby so still. Bobby's body was soaked with sweat, his curls hung in clumps on his forehead, and his skin was clammy and wet. If it hadn't been for the steady rhythmic rising and falling of his chest (thanks to the respirator), he would have looked dead. He certainly did not look well. "Jeez, Bobby," he whispered, "What'd they do to you?" He stared in dismay at the respirator.

"It's just to help him out a little," Annie told him kindly. Annie was back from her leave, and very upset at the deterioration of Bobby's health while she was gone. She scurried around checking on Bobby's IVs and taking his vitals, clucking over him like a mother hen,

Lewis nodded, waiting patiently until Annie left. Then he went and stood by Bobby's bed and touched his arm.

"C'mon, Bobby!" he told him urgently. "You can do this, Man! If anyone can do it, you can!"

There was no response from Bobby, and Lewis pulled a chair up to his bed and sat down heavily. He watched Bobby for a while, thinking back on their experiences together, and had to smile. They'd known each other since kindergarten, and together had been through it all. God they'd had some good times!

"Hey, Bobby," Lewis said, hoping to extract some sort of reaction. "Remember that time Frank and his buddies ratted you out to your dad about your cigarettes? And your dad made you eat the rest of them? Man, you were so sick! Luckily there were only two left."

There was no reaction.

"But you got back at him, remember? You smoked a whole pack of his, and left the butts all over the place. And your dad knew they were Frank's and grounded him for a month. Man that was great!"

Lewis sighed. "Jesus, Bobby! Come on! Remember all that crap you went through? How your mom was always in the hospital and your dad always beat the shit out of you? My mom said she didn't see how you ever made it as far as you did. You were only about ten years old, but you got that stubborn look in your eyes. And you said you could survive anything. Remember that? Well prove it, Man! Prove it!"

Bobby's body moved slightly, and Lewis got excited. He just knew it was a sign, and knew he had to keep talking. He sat for a while and just talked to Bobby as though the two were carrying on a conversation. But Bobby didn't move again.

Lewis remained there for a while longer, then Annie came in and shooed Lewis out, needing to do a little work on Bobby.

"How is he?" Angie asked as Lewis rejoined them. "Any change?"

Lewis shook his head. "But he did move…did he do that before?"

"Probably just a reflex reaction," Deakins told him.

"Yeah, I guess," Lewis said, but he still remained hopeful.

The group alternated staying in with Bobby, Alex staying the longest. It was morning when Deakins came in. He looked at his two detectives, each sleeping; one unconscious, the other exhausted. _**Christ,**_ he thought, _**how did**_ _**we ever get to this point?**_

He gently shook Alex's shoulder. "Alex, c'mon, wake up. Bobby's mother will be here soon."

Alex looked up, confused for a moment. Then she remembered, and slowly got up, looking at Bobby. "Bobby…?"

Deakins shook his head. "No change."

Alex nodded. Having been there in the room with Bobby, she would've been the first to know.

"C'mon, I'll buy you a cup of coffee." He led Alex out of Bobby's room, just at the moment Frances Goren arrived, accompanied by her nurse and a large orderly.

Upon reaching the group, she demanded, "Where is my son?"

The four of them exchanged glances, and Lewis walked up to her, attempting to hug her. "Hello, Mrs. Goren," he said shyly.

She jerked away from him. "Who are you?"

"Lewis," he said. "Bobby's friend, remember? I used to—"

Without acknowledging him, she demanded again, "Where is my son?! Who hurt him?"

Suddenly everyone was very uncomfortable, and her nurse spoke to her. "Frances, none of these people hurt Bobby…"

With that, Deakins walked up, holding out his hand. "Hello, Mrs. Goren, I'm Jimmy Deakins, Bobby's captain. And this is Alex Eames, Bobby's partner."

Frances snorted. "Partner? A woman partner? No wonder he's hurt!"

Alex bristled. "Mrs. Goren, I—" Alex stopped, feeling Deakins' hand on her arm.

"Alex…don't," he warned. "This is Bobby's mother…his _**sick**_ mother."

Frances continued. "What is it you people do…'watch each other's backs?' I hardly think you're capable of watching anyone's back…I suppose it's your fault he was shot?" Frances had not been told exactly what had happened to Bobby; she assumed he had been shot.

Alex just turned away, and Frances' nurse spoke to her again.

"Can I just see my son?" Frances asked.

"As soon as Doctor Henson arrives," Deakins told her. "He'll explain everything to you." Right now Deakins couldn't wait for Henson to get here. As luck would have it, and to everyone's relief, Henson arrived almost immediately.

"Mrs. Goren? I'm Doctor Henson. I need to speak with you about your son."

"I need to see my son," Frances said, tears welling up in her eyes. "My son needs me…"

"Of course he does," the doctor said, "I just want to tell you a few things before you go in."

Frances nodded, and Henson went on. "Bobby was injured very seriously—"

"Who shot him?" she demanded.

The nurse tried to calm her down. "Frances, the doctor is trying to explain things to you. You need to listen right now."

Frances turned on her. "Why do you do this?" she practically screamed. "You all do this! You treat me like I'm a child! You—"

"Frances," the nurse said sternly. "If you do not settle down and listen to the doctor, Harvey and I will take you back to Carmel Ridge right now. Do you understand?"

Frances glared at her, but acquiesced.

Doctor Henson went on. "As I said, Bobby had been very seriously injured. Because of the injury he developed a severe infection, and on top of that he has developed pneumonia."

Frances inhaled sharply. She may have a debilitating disease herself, but she was smart. She knew her son was in serious trouble.

"A double whammy," Henson said. "I won't lie to you, Mrs. Goren, your son is very sick. He has an extremely high fever with the infection, and the pneumonia makes it worse. We are giving him super antibiotics and doing everything possible, but at the moment it is not looking good."

Frances broke down and cried softly. She allowed Lewis to hug her.

"Would you like to go in and see Bobby now?" Henson asked her gently.

Frances nodded, blinded by her own tears. Doctor Henson took her small hand, and Lewis the other, and guided her into Bobby's room.

It was quite a shock to Frances seeing Bobby like this. She felt dizzy for a moment, and the men steadied her. She broke completely down and cried, finally managing to go to Bobby's side. She smoothed his wet curls back, and feeling his forehead, murmured "he's so hot…"

Doctor Henson nodded. "Yes," was about all he could say.

Frances continued to smooth Bobby's hair, saying "my baby, my baby" over and over. Henson walked over slowly, explaining what they were doing for Bobby, and telling her about the various machines and what their function was in his treatment. Whether she took any of this in or not he didn't know, she seemed so intent on her son. Then her demeanor changed, and suddenly she was berating her son.

She started out slow, then got herself all worked up. "I told you this would happen, Bobby! But you never listen, do you? Never!! You never once considered taking a nice respectable job like Frank, you had to go off and play cops and robbers in some demeaning civil service job! Well, now you're paying the price! Maybe now you'll listen! Maybe now—"

Henson put a hand on her own. "Uh, Mrs. Goren, maybe you'd like to take a break?"

He called for Frances' nurse and the orderly. It was time for Frances Goren to leave.

"Come on, Frances, say good bye to Bobby," her nurse said gently.

"No!" Frances cried, "Let me stay! Please! Bobby needs me…" They gently but firmly led her away, as Lewis looked on in dismay. Then he looked again at his unconscious friend. He felt terrible. Bobby'd had to fight and claw his way through life from day one. "C'mon, Bobby," he beseeched fervently, "one more time, Buddy, one more time…"

tbc


	24. Chapter 24

Counterplay Chapter 24

Alex, Deakins, and Angie all watched as Frances Goren was led out of the hospital, alternately verbally attacking her son, or beseeching the orderly to let her stay to help her poor injured son who needed her desperately.

_**Poor Bobby**_, Alex thought, watching as Frances disappeared, and Lewis re-appeared. Lewis caught the way they were all staring.

"He's put up with a lot," he told them. "It was _**never**_ easy for him."

They nodded, and Deakins said, "If you don't mind, I'm going in with him for a while." He looked at Alex.

"Of course," she said, "You need to see him, too."

"Lewis, why don't you take Alex and Angie and go get some coffee?" Deakins said. "Bring me back some. I think we can all use it."

"Detective Alex? Ms. Deakins?" Lewis said shyly, as he escorted them to the cafeteria.

Deakins sighed. He really wanted to see Bobby, but in a way he was dreading it. He knew there was no change in Bobby's condition, and he hated seeing his big detective in such a bad way. He slowly made his way to Bobby's room.

Bobby continued as before, still unconscious, still very sick, and still looking extremely ill.

Deakins sighed again as he sat down. He touched Bobby's hand. "Dammit, Bobby! How the hell did this ever happen? How the hell did it ever get this far?" As expected, there was no response, nor was Deakins expecting one. He sighed again, then leaned over and looked Bobby in the face.

"You know, Bobby, don't know if I ever told you, but I wanted you bad, really bad, in Major Case. I'd heard all about your brilliance, your genius in solving crimes and getting that confession. And I wanted you. I'd been told though, that you could be a problem, more like a damn pain in the ass. And damned it you weren't. But dammit, Bobby, I took a chance on you, and you turned out to be the best bet I ever won. You're the best damn detective I've ever had…and I'm not gonna let you quit now. I need you out here, Bobby, I need your genius, Eames needs you, your mother needs you. You quit on me, now, and I'll kick your ass to kingdom come. You got that, Goren? You get your ass out of that bed, and that is a fucking order!" With that he plopped back into his chair, thoroughly discouraged.

Deakins had no sooner sat down when Bobby stirred. Deakins shot up. "Bobby?" But there was no more movement.

Xxxx

After Deakins returned, Alex insisted on going back in with Bobby. She apologized to the group for her selfishness in being in there with Bobby so long. "I'm sorry," she said. "I…know I'm being selfish, I just have to be with him."

The others understood.

"It's not selfishness," Angie told her. "Bobby's your partner, of course you want to be with him."

_**I hope I'm still his partner**_ Alex thought sadly.

Once again Alex sat in the room by Bobby's side, holding his hand. "Please, Bobby…" she pleaded with him. A little later another nurse came in, and Alex commented, "His hand…it just feels so hot…"

"I know, honey. He's very sick…" the nurse told her gently. "We're doing everything we can…"

Alex started crying softly again. "Oh God Bobby!" Alex sat with him till morning.

xxxxx

Hours later, Annie was in the room, taking Bobby's vitals again. She looked at her thermometer, and took his temperature again. She noted it in his chart, and quickly left the room. Alex stared after her.

A few moments later Annie returned with Doctor Henson, who watched as once again Annie took Bobby's temperature. "Third time," she told him.

"I don't believe it," Henson said,

"Maybe it's just because I've been holding his hand for so long that I'm used to it, but he doesn't seem to be so hot," Alex said wearily, knowing she was imagining it.

Doctor Henson, not meaning to, more or less ignored Alex as he concentrated on his patient. He had Annie usher Alex out, then ordered a whole new battery of tests for Bobby.

Alex returned to the others, slightly perplexed and more than a little scared. "I don't know exactly what's going on," she told them, "but Doctor Henson seemed either upset or excited. He made me get out. They were doing something with Bobby." Deakins closed his eyes for a moment, fearing the worst. They were all scared.

So, once again, they waited.

Xxxxxx

About an hour later Doctor Henson returned, approaching the group. He looked very solemn.

Before they even had time to brace themselves, Doctor Henson announced, "Well, I've never seen anything like it, but his fever's broke."

They were all too shocked to say a word, until Lewis finally ventured, "Does this mean…"

"I don't want to say anything for sure yet, but…all I can say for now is that his chances have gone up one hundred percent. But we still have a very serious case of pneumonia."

Lewis couldn't help it, he let out a loud 'whoop.' "I knew it; he's gonna make it!" Despite his shyness, he grabbed Alex and hugged her. "That son of a bitch is gonna make it!"

"God I hope you're right," Alex said, smiling wanly as she allowed herself to be crushed in Lewis' grip.

"Is he awake, Doctor?" Angie asked.

"No, not yet. He won't be awake for some time, actually. We've put him into a deep sleep, in an effort to help his body heal, and keep him still with no stress or agitation. We've got him on a new antibiotic, a very strong one that's been used successfully for this type of pneumonia. Despite what I just said about giving you false hope, I do feel like Bobby's got an excellent chance now."

Deakins shook the doctor's hand firmly, while Alex and Angie hugged, and Lewis stood there with a silly grin on his face.

"There's really no point now in you all waiting here, except for short periods of time. He'll be asleep for approximately ten days. If there is any change, better or worse, we will call you immediately."

Deakins agreed. "I think we could all use a good rest in a real bed."

"No," Alex said, "I can't leave now! What if…"

"What if 'what,' Alex?" Deakins asked. "You heard what the doctor said: ten days. Bobby will be asleep the whole time, there is nothing you can do, he won't even know you're there. Why don't you take this opportunity to get some rest, so that when Bobby does wake up, you will be healthy enough yourself to help him out?"

"But…"

"No buts, Alex. If you are totally exhausted, what good will you be to Bobby?"

"He's right, Miss Eames," the doctor said. "I'm not saying you can't visit him, but I would suggest for maybe an hour or so a day. When we are ready to bring him out of it, I will let you know so you can be here."

"And if he gets worse?"

"I'll let you know that, too."

"C'mon, Alex," Angie said, putting her arms around the younger woman's shoulders. "We'll take you home."

Alex finally agreed. "But I want to see him before I go."

Doctor Henson allowed that, and Alex went in to see Bobby one last time before her departure. Alex had to admit she had never seen him so still. The only part of Bobby's body that moved at was his chest, the respirator causing his chest to rise and fall as it continued to breathe for him.

She brushed his hair back from his much cooler forehead. "I promise you, Bobby," she whispered to him, "Someday…somehow…I will make this up to you…" She kissed the top of his head, and touching his hand once more she left.

Xxxxx

The days seemed to just drag on as they waited patiently and hopefully for the day Bobby was scheduled to be brought out of his sleep. As promised, Alex came to see Bobby before and after work, the others usually once a day. After deciding his lungs were clear enough now, they at last decided it was time to take Bobby off the respirator and the medicine that kept him asleep. They allowed him to wake on his own.

Alex insisted on spending the entire day with Bobby. She was determined to be there when he awoke. He still slept for most of the day. At some point in the evening Bobby started moving a little, and groaned. "Bobby?" Alex asked, but he still was asleep. It wasn't much longer though, and his long eyelashes fluttered a little. And then he was awake, in kind of a daze, but awake. The first thing he saw clearly was the face of Alex Eames.

"Hi, Bobby," she said softly.

tbc


	25. Chapter 25

Counterplay Chapter 25 

A/N Thanks to Infinity Star and Mary T. for their help and suggestions.

Upon awakening, the first thing Bobby saw clearly was the face of Alex Eames.

"Hi, Bobby," she said softly.

Bobby stared at her for a moment, clearly confused. He tried to speak, but nothing came out.

Realizing that, at least for the moment, Bobby had no clear recollection of where he was, she said gently, "You were hurt, Bobby, and you're in the hospital. But you're okay now, you're gonna be alright."

Again, he tried to say something, and again, nothing came out.

"Let me go and get the doctor, Bobby." Alex practically ran out, she was so excited.

While the doctor was in with Bobby, Alex, beside herself, spoke animatedly to the others. "He's awake!" They all hugged, laughing and crying, while Lewis kept saying over and over, "I knew it! I knew that son of a bitch would make it! I knew it!"

Doctor Henson eventually came out to talk to the group. "Bobby is going to be alright," he told them. "But he might have a few problems at first, talking, walking, motor skills. These are usually temporary—"

"_**Usually?**_" Alex asked.

"Ninety five percent of the patients recover completely. Some have a few problems. Knowing Bobby, he recover a hundred and ten percent," Henson laughed.

"The talking will probably return first," Henson continued. "Some of that is due to the illness, most is due to the tube being in his throat for so long. The large motor skills probably within a couple weeks or so."

"That's going to kill Bobby," Alex observed.

"Better this than the illness really killing him," Henson replied. "I've already spoken to Bobby. He knows what to expect."

xxx

Unfortunately Bobby did know what to expect, and didn't like it one bit. His recovery was slower than he'd hoped, but at least he was recovering. In bed at night his thoughts turned bitter. Normally not a vindictive person, he couldn't help but resent McFadden for what he'd done to him. He wanted to get back at him so bad he could taste it. McFadden had taken so much from him and injured him horrifically. And someday there would be a reckoning. Bobby kept these thoughts to himself, though, there was no sense in inviting trouble.

xxx

It took Bobby about two more weeks before his body started cooperating with his brain. But eventually it all came together. Doctor Henson was pleased with his progress, knowing that with Bobby it was just a matter of time. He'd had confidence in him all along.

Bobby struggled to overcome this latest setback, and had plenty of support from everyone. Deakins visited every other night, occasionally bringing Angie, the nights he wasn't there, Lewis was. And Alex was there every night.

One evening as Bobby practiced walking in the hall, Alex joined him.

"You're coming along pretty good," she said appreciatively, watching as every day his body got stronger.

Bobby smiled that elusive beautiful smile she loved so much. She hadn't seen that smile in quite some time. "Thanks," he said hoarsely, his throat still a little raw.

As they continued to walk, Alex grew quiet. This, of course, did not escape Bobby.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

When she didn't say anything, he stopped. "Eames?"

Alex chewed her lip as Bobby waited. Finally she said, very softly, "Bobby…did…did you mean it?"

Bobby frowned. "Mean what, Eames?"

"What…you said when you were so sick?"

Bobby really wasn't in the mood for games. "I said a lot of things, Alex. What are you talking about?"

Alex suddenly felt very vulnerable, and wished she hadn't said anything. But it was too late now, Bobby would never let it go. "When…um, you said you forgave me?" Finally it was out.

Bobby just looked at her for a moment. "Alex, I don't remember saying that."

Alex looked crestfallen.

"But I have been doing a lot of thinking. And…and I do forgive you, Alex."

Alex suddenly looked so happy, she hugged Bobby so hard she nearly knocked him over. "Oh, God, I'm sorry, Bobby!" she said, as she grabbed him before he fell. "Oh, Bobby, thank you! Thank you!"

Bobby smiled again, straightening up. Alex leaned into him, crying, and Bobby slowly stroked her hair. "It's okay, Alex, it's okay…"

They headed back to Bobby's room, where Bobby sat on the bed, needing to rest. Alex took the chair beside the bed. They talked for a long time, until well past visiting hours. Before leaving, Alex kissed Bobby on the cheek. "Bobby, I promise I will make this up to you."

"That's not necessary, Eames," Bobby started, but Alex continued. "No, Bobby, I promised you when you were so sick—and I _**will**_ make it up to you!"

xxx

Everything seemed to be going pretty well for Bobby, except for one thing. He still couldn't escape Doctor Painter, his shrink, who never missed an appointment. Bobby had decided a long time ago that Painter needed his own shrink.

When Painter came into his room Bobby still wouldn't speak to him.

"Well, I see your little experience hasn't changed you," Painter told him.

Bobby, who was still pretty wiped out anyway, didn't even look up.

"It could have gone a lot worse for you, you know."

Bobby sighed. "Yeah, so what?"

Painter sneered. "Do you think it was just _**chance**_ that you got so sick?"

Bobby's head jerked up. "What did you say?" _**Now**_ Painter had his attention, but refused to say any more.

"What did you say?" Bobby demanded again.

"We'll talk after our session," Painter told him.

"The hell we will!" Bobby was furious. "Get the fuck out! Now!" To emphasize his point, Bobby got to his feet and advanced on him.

Painter backed up. "S-Stay away from me! I told them you were dangerous!"

Very softly Bobby said, "Well now I'm gonna show you just how dangerous I can be!" The softness of Bobby's voice terrified Painter even more.

Painter backed out the door, and was gone. If Bobby hadn't been so angry he would have found it amusing. But right now he didn't think it was one bit funny.

Later that day Doctor Henson was in. Bobby was still angry about Painter, and spoke about it with the doctor.

"I'm telling you, Doc, if someone doesn't take that son of a bitch off my case I'm going to do it myself—physically!"

"Take it easy, Bobby. No sense in getting all riled up about it now. We've had a number of complaints about him. I don't think he'll be here much longer."

"Well, that's good. How the hell did that quack ever make it to this hospital, anyway?"

Henson shook his head. "All I know is, he came with good credentials. What happened after that, I don't know. I know he's not good, but I don't think he's dangerous."

"I'm not so sure," Bobby mused. "Do you know that bastard actually insinuated that my getting sick was no accident?"

Henson looked startled.

"He said it was no accident—what?"

"Bobby, uh…we got the results back from your latest blood test."

Bobby looked stricken. His first thought was AIDS. His worst nightmare. He closed his eyes. "Oh God…"

Henson realized right away what Bobby was thinking. "Oh, no, Bobby…it's not that."

Bobby let out the breath he didn't realize he was holding. "Then…what?"

"We found a trace of immunosuppressant drugs in your blood. It's extremely difficult to pick up on that if you're not looking for it."

Bobby stared at Henson for a second. "You're saying—"

"I haven't said anything yet," Henson told him. "What I am trying to say is that we found minute traces in your blood. The amount we found would not have had that effect on you. However, if there had been more by the time we found it there wasn't much there. This could explain your recovery."

"So how did it get there?"

"That I don't know," Henson admitted. But to himself he wondered if somehow Bobby's meds had been tampered with.

The detective in him already figured that out. **_Painter_**, Bobby thought.. "And could someone have easy access to those type of drugs?"

"I really don't see how," Henson said, suddenly seeing a malpractice suit against him, the hospital, and whoever tampered with the drugs. "I'm not saying anyone did."

Sensing he would get nothing more from Henson at the moment, Bobby merely nodded.

"Anyway, Bobby, I'd say you were coming along excellently. If you continue to make progress like you have been, I'd say you can probably go home in two, maybe three days."

"That's the best news I've heard since I've been here!" Bobby was excited; he couldn't wait to tell the others the news.

xxx

Later that evening when Alex arrived, Bobby was sitting on the chair reading his Smithsonian. Hearing Alex, he looked up, with the biggest grin on his face.

"You know you look just like the Cheshire Cat?" Alex teased him. "What's up?"

"What's up," Bobby said, putting his magazine down, "is that I'm finally getting out of here!" He stood up and walked to Alex, who hugged him fiercely.

"Bobby that is so great!" Alex seemed almost as happy as Bobby.

"Let's go for a walk, Eames," Bobby said, a little mysteriously. They headed down to the sun room. "I've got a few things to tell you. And a theory I'd like to run by you."

"Sure, Bobby," Alex said lightheartedly, figuring he was kidding since he hadn't even made it out of the hospital yet. Bobby didn't say anything, and Alex turned to him, "Bobby?"

The look on Bobby's face told her he was anything but kidding. He was all business. And part of that business was Painter.

tbc


	26. Chapter 26

A/N Very sorry about the delay folks. I do have a few excuses though, (not necessarily good excuses, but excuses none the less.) Being in the hospital, coming out and getting the flu. Then husband got the flu, then had some minor heart surgery. There's the usual, work, very busy this time of year in retail, Christmas, pure exhaustion, throw in a little writer's block, and there you have it. Anyway, sorry again.

Counterplay Chapter 26

Once in the sun room, Bobby turned suddenly to Alex, startling her.

"Bobby?"

Bobby was pacing as well as he could in his condition. "It's Painter, Eames."

Alex was confused. "What is, Bobby?"

"Painter. He's the one, Eames! He's the one who made me so sick! He—"

"Bobby! Slow down!" Alex told him. "You're not making any sense! How could Painter make you sick?"

"You mean other than with his 'counseling'?" Bobby said sarcastically. "The bastard did it, every time he sedated me. He practically admitted it!"

Alex looked shocked. "Bobby, I don't—" 

"They found trace amounts of immune suppressant drugs in my blood. There shouldn't have been _**any**_. He stole some, and put it in my IV every time he sedated me."

"Jesus, Bobby..."

"He told me it wasn't chance that I got sick."

"Oh my God! Is he really that stupid?" Bobby gave her a look that said, yes, he could be that stupid. "Could he possibly have been just bragging, to make himself look tough?"

"Oh, he was bragging, all right. Bragging about how he almost killed me. But he didn't look so tough when he went screaming from the room!"

Alex couldn't help it. The image of Painter running from Bobby's room, scared out of his wits, cracked her up. She started laughing. Her laughter was contagious. Despite his anger, Bobby cracked a smile, remembering. When Bobby started actually grinning, Alex laughed even harder, till tears ran down her cheeks. Bobby started laughing, too, for no other reason than that Alex was laughing so hard. The more she laughed, the more he laughed. Neither could talk.

Finally Bobby said, still laughing, "Damn, Eames...that was the best laugh... I've had in...six months!"

"Me, too!" Tears still ran down her face.

A nurse came into the sunroom. "Is everything all right in here? Mr. Goren," she said very concerned. "Are you alright? Maybe you should sit down..."

"I'm okay," Bobby said. The nurse stared at them for a moment, then left. They both started snickering again, and Bobby said, "I don't know why we're laughing...it's not that funny.."

"I know," Alex said, . "It's just the image of that little runt...so what do we do now?" Alex asked.

"We bust that bastard's balls," Bobby calmly replied. "If he has any."

"Any ideas how we do that? Are there any witnesses?"

"Not that I know of. First, we have to find out if anyone saw him hanging or loitering around the pharmacy when he shouldn't have been there. Maybe you could check that out."

"I can handle that," Alex said.

"And don't worry about being discrete. I want him to start worrying."

"And what if there weren't any witnesses?"

"Then we play like there is one.. I'd rather try and find a real witness first. Either way that son of a bitch is going down."

Alex smiled. It was nice to see Bobby finally up and ready to fight. It wouldn't be long, she hoped, and the old Bobby would be back. God, it had been so long!

Xxxxx

A little later, Alex found herself in the pharmacy section of the hospital, flashing her badge around, and asking a lot of questions.

She spoke to Janice Lender, the head pharmacist, asking about Painter and if she or any of her staff had seen Painter hanging around the pharmacy.

"No, actually I haven't," Lender said, "but I will ask my entire staff."

"That'd be great," Alex told her. "But if you don't mind, I'd like to speak to them also, in addition to you."

"Of course," the pharmacist said, not particularly a fan of Painter's. "I shouldn't say this, but I hope you get that little prick."

Alex stared at her for a moment.

"Everyone hates him," Janice explained, seeing the look on Alex's face. "He's sneaky, ignorant, arrogant...you name it."

"I've seen him. My poor partner's the one who has to deal with him."

"Uh...if you don't mind my asking, why are you investigating him?"

Alex wasn't sure how much she should say, but she finally told her, "We think he may have played a part in my partner's continued illness. Possibly made it worse."

Lender shook her head. "He'll be lucky if he doesn't leave here worse off than when he got here."

Alex looked sad for a moment. "Well, I doubt that. He was in pretty bad shape when he arrived, physically and mentally. But he's a strong guy. He's doing pretty good now, and he probably knows more about psychiatry than Painter ever did."

"I've no doubt of that. Well, good luck. Like I said, hope you get him. I'll do what I can."

"Thanks," Alex said gratefully.

Xxxxxx

Later that evening, Alex reported back to Bobby.

"Well, except for the ones off today, so far no one I spoke to has seen anything suspicious, or more suspicious than normal."

"Meaning he hangs around there a lot?"

"Supposedly he's interested in one of the women who work there. She won't have anything to do with him, but he keeps coming by anyway."

"It might be enough," Bobby said. "Call Carver, fill him in, and get him up here tomorrow."

xxxxx

The next morning, Painter came barging into Bobby's room, nearly knocking over a nurse.

"Hey, watch it!" Bobby said, "you could have knocked her down--"

"Shut up!" Painter screamed, his momentum throwing him full force into a surprised and weakened Bobby, pushing him onto the bed. "And you!" he spat at the nurse. "Get out!"

The nurse looked to Bobby, making sure he was okay, and would remain so. Bobby nodded at her. "It's okay, Leisa. I'm okay, and I can handle things."

After she was gone, Painter turned back to Bobby. "You bastard! What do you mean having that partner of yours checking up on me? Huh? Huh?" He pushed on Bobby's chest, and Bobby pushed him away, standing up again to his full height. Painter shrank back a bit, but continued on his tirade. "You think you're okay?' He was furious. "You haven't seen anything yet, Buster. I'll fix you good!"

"You mean like you tried to do before, and failed?"

"Think you're so smart? There's no way anyone can prove I took those immune suppressant drugs. No one saw a thing, cause I was very careful. As sick as you were it wouldn't take much, and I took so little, it wasn't even noticed. You're just damn lucky you're alive today! If I'd have taken just a little more, you'd be fucking dead!'

"So what's your plan now?" Bobby said sarcastically. "You going to use talk therapy on me and bore me to death?"

"You smart ass. I've got a better and much more interesting way of dealing with you. I've had you transferred. In about an hour, you'll be on your way to the psyche ward. And you'll never get out! I've been writing you up lately, and have officially diagnosed you as both homicidal and psychotic."

"_The only thing I'm homicidal about is the thought of killing you!_" Bobby thought.

Unaware of this, Painter grinned. "I'll fix it so you never get out! And your life will be a living hell. I should've done this in the first place, instead of trying to kill you. This will be a lot more fun for me--"

"I've heard enough," ADA Ron Carver announced, coming in from just outside the door. He was followed by Eames.

Eames tried not to smile, but couldn't help it. "Doctor Painter you are under arrest for the attempted murder of a police officer...You have the right to remain silent--"

"You fucker!" he screamed again at Bobby as he resisted being handcuffed. "You set me up! You won't get away--"

"Anything you say can and will be used against you..."

"Shut up! I know what you're doing!" He continued as he was dragged out by the police, kicking and screaming the whole way.

"That should put him away for a while," Carter said smugly, then left to take care of all the details.

Alex and Bobby chatted a bit, small talk, discussing Bobby's release date.

"You know the irony of this?" Bobby asked, as things finally settled down. "Painter's going to be the one locked away in some mental ward."

"Now he'll see what he's put others through,"Alex said. "What goes around..."

"Yeah," Bobby mused. "But I wonder just how many innocents he's put in there?"

tbc


	27. Chapter 27

Counterplay Chapter 27 

For a few days after Dr. Painter's arrest, Bobby, waiting to be released, paced the hospital corridors while everyone else slept, even as the nurses shooed him back to his room with offers of something to help him sleep. He wasn't sleeping well, every little noise in the middle of the night seemed magnified a hundred times. Almost every time someone came in to his room to take his vitals, he was awake.

One night Annie Johnson was on her rounds and stopped in his room. She shook her head. "Don't you ever sleep, Honey?"

Bobby gave her a weak smile. "Not very much," he admitted.

Annie sat down on the chair next to him. "Baby, is something bothering you?"

"No," Bobby lied, reluctant to say what was really on his mind. "I've never been a good sleeper. My dad used to beat the crap out of me for wandering the house at night."

Annie got up. "Well, Baby, I have to go check on some other patients. If you like, when I'm done, I can come back and sit with you till you fall asleep. Or I can give you something to help you sleep...?"

Bobby shook his head. "Thanks, Annie. But I'm used to it."

"Alright, Honey, if you need me, just buzz me." Then she was gone.

xxxxxxx

Three days later, Bobby was released from the hospital. Alex picked him up. Stepping outside the tinted windows of the hospital doors, the sun hit him full in the face. He shaded his eyes a bit.

"God, I hope it's all over," Bobby said.

Alex looked at him. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, do you know how long it's been since I've been really free? To actually feel the sun on my face?"

Alex sympathized with him. Since this whole thing started, he'd been either in jail or in the hospital for about a year, with a short relief after the trial of McFadden. "Must seem strange for you."

"It is." Then that elusive smile. "But I'm pretty sure I can handle it."

" Will you be able to do things? Take care of yourself? Are you sure you're gonna be alright by yourself?" Alex asked concernedly.

"I won't be by myself."

"Oh, really?" Alex teased, eyebrows raised. "You dog! Already?"

Bobby smiled. "It's not what you think. I'm gonna spend the first couple of days with Lewis."

"With _Lewis? _Don't even tell me you're going to try to work on cars!"

"I'm a big boy, Eames. I think I can take care of myself."

"But your ribs..."

"Relax, Eames. All I'm gonna do is lay around and watch the "Discovery" channel while Lewis works, and drink a few beers. He'll be right down the street in his garage. He'll check on me regularly."

"Okay," Alex said brightly. On the inside, however, she was a little disappointed. She'd kind of hoped to take care of Bobby herself. "If you need anything, let me know."

"I will. Hopefully, I'll be able to do okay. I...just want my life to get back to normal, you know?"

"And staying with Lewis is normal?" she said a little crisply, before she could stop herself.

Bobby was a little surprised. "Well...no...what I mean is, I'm going to try to do everything on my own. But if I can't, Lewis will be there. And he can still work. "

Alex had to concede that Bobby was right. Lewis' house was only three blocks from his garage, he could work and still help Bobby out if needed. He also had three bedrooms, in the house he'd lived in for his entire life. For her part, Alex could only check on him periodically, bring dinner, or take him to his new therapist. Or take time off, which Deakins probably wouldn't go for. In fact, with his best detective out for so long, everything seemed to be behind. Deakins sometimes wondered how he ever got by pre-Goren.

xxxxx

Lewis and Bobby sat at Lewis' kitchen table, finishing a great dinner of T-bones and baked pototoes and drinking beer.

"Sure is great to have you here, Bobby," Lewis said.

Bobby agreed. "Yeah, not under the best of circumstances, but still nice to be here." It brought up a lot of memories for both. Bobby couldn't help envying Lewis. Some of the best times he'd had were at this very house. He had never once been in trouble in this house, ever, even if he deserved it. He'd always felt more at home here than in his own house.

As much as Bobby enjoyed the reminiscing, he was exhausted. "Man, I gotta give it up," he told Lewis.

"Aww, Bobby..." Lewis was disappointed, but understood. "Okay, we'll talk more tomorrow. I've got your room all ready."

Actually, Bobby was more tired than he even realized. He barely could keep his eyes opened as he removed his clothes, and in boxers and t-shirt lay down carefully on the bed, taking care not to move too sharply and hurt his ribs. He was asleep in seconds.

Sometime in the night Bobby woke up, alarmed. He'd heard what sounded like footsteps stopping right outside his door. He quickly got out of bed, grabbing his ribs in pain, the thing he'd been trying to avoid. Then ignoring it, and moving quickly he picked up a baseball bat from beside the dresser and jerked open the door, scaring the crap out of Lewis.

"Jesus, Bobby!" Lewis yelled. "Put that damn bat down! You scared the piss out of me!"

Bobby ran his long fingers through his hair. "I'm...sorry, Lewis. I...I...What the hell were you doing outside my door?"

"I was just listening to make sure you were asleep and doing okay...what did you think?"

"I thought...never mind. I'm still not myself. Sorry."

Lewis looked at his friend, understanding more than Bobby cared for him to know. "You thought it was McFadden, didn't you? You thought that he had found you..."

Again, Bobby ran his fingers through his hair. "I...don't know what's wrong with me...he couldn't possibly know..."

" He doesn't, Bobby. Hey, look, buddy, there's nothing wrong with you. It's understandable that you'd be nervous about him, with him still being on the loose. Not after what that bastard did to you."

Bobby had to look away, still ashamed and embarrassed by his horrific assault. "I guess I'll probably stay up for a while, check out what's on tv."

"I'll stay up with you for a while," Lewis said. "I'm not tired at all."

"Bullshit! You have to get up and go to work tomorrow."

"What? You think I can't make it through the day if I don't get my eight hours?" Lewis grinned at him. "So what'll it be, Discovery, A&E, National Geographic...?"

"How about TV Land?" Bobby said, offering up something Lewis might enjoy more. "We could watch 'Leave It To Beaver.' Just like the old days."

Bobby and Lewis both laughed. "Ol' Beaver didn't have anything on us," Lewis said. "We could find a lot more to get into than he ever did."

"Okay." Bobby agreed, heading back to his room. "Let me throw on my jeans and I'll meet you downstairs."

By the time Bobby made it back downstairs Lewis had the tv on, TV Land, and two beers sitting out.

Bobby cocked an eyebrow at the beers, and Lewis said. "It'll help you sleep."

"If I drank everytime I couldn't sleep, I'd have been an alcoholic by the time I was twenty five," Bobby told his friend, only half jokingly.

About midway through "Leave It To Beaver" Lewis, on his Lazy Boy recliner, was loudly snoring away. Bobby found a blanket and put it over his friend. Then he lay down on the big couch and stared absently at the tv, the things on his mind having nothing to do with Beaver Cleaver.

He couldn't get McFadden out of his mind. Would McFadden, an escaped convict on the run, with police searching for him all over, actually wait around to follow through on the threat he made to Bobby to kidnap him and torture him for days before finally killing him? Was the guy that nuts? Was his obsession with Bobby so great that he would risk recapture just to get his final revenge? Bobby tossed these ideas around in his mind for a long time, and finally came up with the answer: Yes to all questions.

After about an hour, he fell back into a very troubled sleep.

_Bobby didn't recognize where he was, nothing in his surroundings was familiar. But he recognized the men surrounding him: McFadden and his two cohorts, McFadden grinned at him maliciously, various instruments of torture in his hands, including the broken bloody broom handle. Bobby tried to escape, only to discover he was chained down. Then they were on him, Bobby was screaming in horror and pain. McFadden was laughing in his ultimate revenge. Minutes turned into hours, hours into days, days into weeks. There was no let up, no escape, McFadden kept coming at him..._

"Wake up! Bobby! Wake up!" Lewis was shaking Bobby, trying to wake him and still stay out of the way of his thrashing arms and legs.

Finally Bobby half-way woke up, trying to get off the couch. "I gotta get out of here!"

Lewis pushed him back down. "Dammit, Bobby! Wake up!"

At last Bobby fully woke up, drenched in sweat. He lay there, exhausted, finally saying, "I gotta do something!"

"You're okay, Bobby! It was just a dream, you're okay!"

Bobby still lay there, breathing hard. "It's not okay, Lewis. He's coming for me, I know it. He has it in for me so bad, he's never gonna let me off so easy."

_Easy?_ If what he did to Bobby he referred to as 'easy' then God help Bobby if McFadden ever caught up with him.

tbc


	28. Chapter 28

Counterplay Chapter 28

On his first morning at the home of his best friend Lewis, Bobby awoke to a heavenly smell, the aroma of freshly made coffee and bacon. He went into the kitchen, clad in sweatpants and a t-shirt, to find bacon sizzling in a pan and buttered toast on a plate, and Lewis getting ready to fry some eggs.

Bobby poured himself a cup of steaming hot coffee.

"Remember," Lewis joked. "There's no suing if you spill that stuff on yourself. I'm telling you now, it's hot."

That got a small smile out of Bobby. "Yeah, but it doesn't say that on the cup," Bobby joked back. "You're still liable. God, that bacon smells good! Do you know how long it's been since I've had anything home cooked? And eggs and bacon, yet." The hospital food hadn't exactly won any cook-offs lately, and at home Bobby rarely had time in the morning for breakfast. And even when he was off, the most he ever ate in the morning was toast and coffee. This was a real treat.

"Just wait till tonight," Lewis promised.

"Hey, Lewis, I didn't come here for you to wait on me hand and foot. The least I can do is cook."

"I know that," Lewis replied. "But it's your first full day. Don't worry, I'll have you cooking in no time, you're a hell of a lot better cook than me."

He put a plate of bacon, eggs and toast in front of Bobby, and another in his own place at the table.

Bobby scarfed his down in no time. "Didn't realize I was so hungry," he said.

"No problem. Got plenty more in the pan."

Lewis watched as Bobby got up slowly, putting a hand over his ribs, and went to the stove for a little more. "You want some while I'm here?"

"Nah, this'll do it for me." Lewis continued to watch Bobby. "Hey, you okay, Buddy?"

"Yeah, it's just the ribs. They're still a little sore. The doc said it would take a while before they fully healed. But I can get around okay."

"You sure? I can stay home today..."

"I'll be fine." Bobby said, a little testily. "The deal was I wasn't going to burden you. If I'm going to interfere with your--"

"Okay!" Lewis said. "You're not a burden. And I'll carry on as usual. Alright?"

"I'm...sorry..." Bobby said. "I didn't mean to raise my voice to you. I know you're concerned, and I appreciate that."

Lewis put his hand on Bobby's shoulder. "Hey, Bobby, it's okay." Actually he remembered Bobby's nightmare last night, knowing that had to have him stressed a bit, and it did worry him.

"Well, guess I'll head on out, then," Lewis said. "See you at lunch."

Bobby nodded. "Thanks, Lewis."

After Lewis left, Bobby looked around and sighed. He sat in the living room, thinking about all the good times he had in this house with Lewis. Things sure were a lot different here than in his own home, where tension and chaos reigned. Things here were always carefree, Lewis' parents were always happy to see him, and treated him as if he were their own son. Many times as a child Bobby imagined he really lived here, and that this was his real family. But wishful thinking hadn't changed anything. He was who he was, and his own family was...his real family.

He finally got up and went back to the kitchen, where he cleaned up. Then he turned the tv on, and tried to take it easy like he was supposed to. That didn't last long, he was soon up and wandering around, looking for something useful to do. Finally he put his shoes on, and went for a short walk.

That soon became his regular routine, each day increasing the distance he walked. And now he was the one fixing breakfast, at his insistence. One morning, watching Lewis eat, Bobby said, "Do you eat like this everyday?"

Lewis grinned. "I have a great metabolism."

Bobby shook his head. "I guess. Well, for now on, _you _eat the big breakfast, I'll stick to toast and coffee."

Taking a huge bite of his eggs, Lewis said, "You're getting around pretty good now, huh? Except for your ribs?"

"Yeah, I'm up to about a half-mile a day now. I have to start building my strength back up."

"You were pretty sick, Bobby. I'm surprised you're making it that far."

"Well, before you praise me too much, you should see me right afterwards. I sleep for about three hours."

"Hey, that's okay, man. You need that, too."

What Bobby neglected to tell him was that during those three hours he slept he inevitably had a nightmare, daily. A nightmare named James McFadden.

xxxx

"So how's your new partner working out?" Bobby asked Alex one evening as she, Lewis and Bobby sat around eating Chinese takeout.

"My new _temporary_ partner, you mean," Alex corrected him. "And he's not."

"Not?" Bobby said, surprised. "Why? What's wrong with Kenny?"

Alex snorted. "Well, for one thing he farts!"

Bobby and Lewis both burst out laughing.

"It's not funny! I'm not talking occasionally. I'm talking all the time. And he thinks it's so hilarious! I think he does it just to get to me. And it stinks! Why do guys think that is so damn funny?"

The guys couldn't stop laughing, which only made Alex madder. Bobby had to hold his ribs, which were hurting badly from laughing so hard.

"Good!" Alex said. "I hope you're up all night with those damn ribs!"

"Don't worry, I will be. So what else is wrong with him?"

"Other than the fact that he's lazy and stupid? Nothing."

"Didn't realize he was that bad," Bobby said. "Guess you'll appreciate me a little more now."

"I always appreciate you Bobby," Alex said softly. "And I want you back, as soon as possible."

"I'll be back," Bobby promised.

"When?" Alex asked. "You'll never get back if you don't start counseling again. You know that."

"Yeah, I know, and I haven't exactly had the best experience with psychiatrists you know, Eames."

"I know that, but..."

"For Christ's sake, Eames! What the hell good is it going to do? I know what they're going to tell me, and I know what they want to hear!" Bobby was getting angry, this was the last thing he wanted to discuss tonight.

Alex was getting angry, too, while Lewis sat there feeling completely out of place. "Well, if you know exactly what they're going to tell you, and you know exactly what they want to hear, then why the hell can't you just go through the damn formality of it so you can come back to work?"

Bobby stared at her for a second. "Because...I'm not ready."

"Not ready? For what?" Alex was confused. "Not ready for counseling or not ready to come back to work?"

Bobby didn't say anything.

Lewis picked up his drink, and a few of the leftovers. "Uh, I'm just gonna clean up in the kitchen for a bit."

Both waited until Lewis had left. "I don't understand, Bobby. I thought you'd be chomping at the bit to get back to work..."

"I am. But I'm just not ready to talk to a shrink, okay?"

Now Alex was quiet. "Any idea when you'll _be_ ready?"

"Soon," Bobby said vaguely, "Just not right now."

Alex gave it up for the night. "Okay, not right now. But I really want..._need_ you back at work." She sighed. "So what do you want to do, watch a movie? I brought a few of them, so between the three of us we should be able to decide on one." She brought the dvds out of her bag.

"Lewis!" Bobby called. "You can come back out now!"

Lewis came back in, looking a little sheepish. "Here," Bobby said, holding out the dvds. "Choose one."

They settled, a little uncomfortably, into a night of movies, which none of them really saw, each with their own thoughts. Alex wondering what was going on with Bobby. She knew, _she witnessed_, the horrible torture Bobby had gone through, and she knew that he knew he needed to talk to someone, a professional. So why wasn't he? She also knew, that when push came to shove, he could be as pig-headed as anyone, sometimes even more than most. Well, she could be pig-headed, too. She'd keep after him until he did it.

Lewis, for his part, was feeling just a little uncomfortable, with his best friend and his very pretty partner (with whom he was smitten) both out of sorts. He realized Alex was right, and she hadn't even seen him with the nightmare that first night. He, too, wished Bobby would see someone. He felt it was only a matter of time before Bobby, in his restlessness, boredom, and whatever else, would blow. For Bobby's sake. he did not want that to happen.

Bobby thought of the possibility of seeing another shrink, and right away tossed the idea out. He was right about his bad experiences with psychiatrists. The last one had tried to kill him. He knew that was a freak thing, but the man had exploited him, had gotten off on what had happened to him, made things worse than they were to begin with. It seemed like the more he tried to get ahead, the more he fell behind. And the idea of starting over with a new shrink was something he dreaded. He had gone through a horrific ordeal, and it was something he wanted to forget, not start thinking about again. Which was what talking about it with a shrink would do. And reopening wounds that were just barely beginning to heal was _not_ on Bobby's current agenda.

tbc


	29. Chapter 29

Counterplay Chapter 29 

Bobby sat in front of Lewis' fifty inch big screen plasma tv, the remote control in his hand, doing what most guys do with a remote: constantly switching channels. He had been at Lewis' for over two weeks now, and he was getting bored. Not with Lewis, just everyday life. Nothing seemed right. His routine was the same every day. He'd get up, have his toast and coffee while Lewis ate his breakfast, then he'd clean up, and go for his walk. And, of course, watch the tv. He put on the Discovery Channel, and sighed. How is it the only time they put on any new shows was when he's at work? He flipped the remote onto the coffee table and stood up, easing himself into a big stretch. The only good things about this deal were his long chats with Lewis, and his daily walk. Soon though, he was going to have to make the move back home. He was more than ready. Not that it was any less boring there, but at least he'd be on his own again, which meant he was recovering. At least he tried to convince himself of that.

He was starting to go further on his walks everyday. It was during this time that he did his thinking. One of the things he thought about was the counseling. He knew he couldn't go back to work without it, and yet it was the last thing on earth he wanted. Even though he wasn't into counseling to begin with, Painter had ruined him on it. He was in a quandary, he wanted to go back to work badly. But the counseling?

A few minutes later, two police cars went flying by, lights flashing and sirens wailing. A minute later two more went by. For just a second, Bobby thought about following, then before he knew it, his feet, of their own accord. were leading him straight to the crime scene, an old apartment building with bloodstained steps and debris scattered about. Already the yellow tape was up, and along with the black and whites were the CSU personnel scurrying in and out of the house with their various forms of equipment. Not long after came the part Bobby was waiting for—the arrival of the detectives. Everyone gave them clearance in deference to their obvious authority. Bobby sighed heavily. _**That should be me and Alex,**_ he thought wistfully. Now, more than ever, he longed to be back on the job. To Bobby, this wasn't just a job, it was his life's work. It was what he was born to do, and he intended to continue doing it. He was going to have to give that counseling another chance.

xxxxxxx

One evening Alex came over, bringing Chinese takeout for all of them. Before they could even get started, Bobby said, "I...uh...have something to tell you."

Alex and Lewis looked up expectantly.

"I've decided to resume counseling."

Alex started to go to him, clearly happy about this turn of events. "Bobby, that's great! If there's any--"

Bobby stopped her, holding her at arm's length. "No, Alex, I don't want any help from you--"

Tears stung Alex's eyes and she turned away, hurt beyond measure. Bobby took her gently by the shoulders and turned her, looking deeply into her eyes.

"Not just you, Alex. I don't want any help from Lewis, either."

Lewis blinked, not sure where Bobby was going with this.

"Or Deakins," Bobby continued, "or anyone from SVU. What happened to me was extremely personal, and I need to do this on my own, without anybody holding my hand and telling me that everything's gonna be okay. Because it isn't okay, and I don't know if it'll ever be right again. But I'm going to try, I'm going to give it everything I got. And hopefully it will work. I... really want to go back to my job, but I can't do that if I have any doubts. Any doubts at all, about my own abilities, or my mental and psychological issues. I have to know I can do this, on my own, because in our job any situation may come up, and there might not be someone there to hold my hand."

A moment later Bobby said, "The last thing I ever want to do is hurt you, Alex, but I have to do this on my own. Do you understand?" Bobby's eyes pleaded with her to understand.

Alex gave a little smile. "Yeah, I understand," she said, "and you're right, on both counts. I probably would want to hold your hand all the way. And it will be better to do this your way." She looked into his eyes. "I'm okay with this, Bobby. I really am. The important thing is that you get the counseling."

Vastly relieved, Bobby said, "Okay then. Let's eat."

Lewis looked at the cartons, clearly unhappy with the choice of cuisine. "Chinese? Again?"

Alex and Bobby had already started in, and looked up at him. Taking a bite Alex said, "We're cops, Lewis. What did you expect? We live on Chinese takeout."

"Besides," Bobby added, holding up some chopsticks, "You still need the practice."

Lewis plopped himself down. "Don't matter how much I practice," he grumbled, "I'll never get the hang of this."

Bobby smiled. "Aw, come on, Lew, you'll get it. I'll show you."

"What? Like you showed me how to cross the street?"

"Lewis--"

"I'll be lucky if I don't stab myself!"

"Lewis," Bobby started again.

Alex sat up straighter. "What? Lewis?" she asked eagerly. Alex never passed up on an opportunity to learn more about Bobby's past.

"Nothing, Alex," Bobby said. He looked at Lewis threateningly. "Don't."

But it was too late. Alex was raring to go, and it was obvious Lewis wanted to talk.

"So what happened?" Alex looked at Lewis, and he melted. He'd tell her anything she wanted, and she knew it. She'd won. She looked at Bobby triumphantly. Bobby just folded his arms over his chest and sat back, resigned to his fate.

"Well, one day Bobby just took it in his head to teach me how to cross the street--"

"Wait a minute," Alex interrupted. "Aren't you both the same age?"

"Yeah, we were both five, but Bobby was a lot more _**worldly**_" Lewis told her a bit sarcastically.

"Worldly? At five years old?" Alex couldn't help but laugh.

Already Bobby felt the urge to defend himself. "What he means is, unlike myself, he was over-protected, and he'd never crossed by himself. So, I...showed him."

_**And you were **__**never**__** protected,**_ Lewis thought sadly, but he'd never tell his friend that. "Yeah, he showed me alright," Lewis broke in. "Know what he did? He made us stand on the curb a few houses down from here, pretty busy street, you have to admit. He'd watch the cars, and all of a sudden take off across the street, just barely missing being hit by half the cars, then wait for me. He'd watch, then yell, 'Now!' and I'd run, too. It was crazy, cars were honking at us, a few people got out of their cars and yelled. But then we'd do it all over again, back and forth, for probably about fifteen minutes or so, till a neighbor told my mom. I was so scared, I'd never seen my mother so mad. I remember hiding behind the couch in the living room, while she called Bobby's parents. Then she whupped me with a fly swatter, the plastic kind with the metal handle, for I swear, another fifteen minutes."

Bobby felt slightly offended, but smiled, remembering it. "Well at least you learned to look before you crossed the street."

Alex was laughing as Lewis told his story. "And what happened to you, Bobby?" she asked, still laughing.

The smile left Bobby's face. "My...uh...father came and got me. Told me it was the last time I was going to embarrass him again in public. So he...punished me."

Now Lewis looked somber, too, and almost wished he hadn't brought it up.

Bobby stood up. "Anybody want another drink?" He made his way to the kitchen, as Alex looked questioningly at Lewis.

"His dad was...kind of rough on him," Lewis explained. "I thought what my mom did was bad enough, stung like hell, but didn't really hurt me. Bobby never told me what his father did, but he didn't come to school for almost two weeks after that."

Alex sighed. "I don't know a whole lot about Bobby's earlier life, he usually doesn't talk about it, but I gather it was pretty tough."

"You don't know the half of it," Lewis agreed.

While in the kitchen, preparing himself a fresh drink, Bobby determined he was not going to let his past drag him down again, and returned to the others with a smile on his face. "Well, at least the majority of my memories here are great. Your mom was great, too, Lewis. And your dad. They were kind of like parents to me, you know? Some of the happiest moments of my life were right here."

"I know, buddy," Lewis said. "Mine, too, especially when you were here. Mom and Dad really liked you."

Bobby chuckled. "I don't know how many times I scared the crap out of your mom."

"Yeah, remember one of the times you spent the night, and the tv was broke?"

Bobby nodded, a big grin on his face.

"We were eating dinner and you excused yourself? We thought you were using the bathroom, and when you didn't come back we went to get you and you had the whole back off the tv?" Lewis was laughing again, and Bobby and Alex joined in.

Bobby picked up the story. "Yeah, I was going to fix their tv. I'd seen my dad fix ours a few times and I thought I knew how to do it. So I had this big screwdriver in my hand, and was about to unscrew something in the back, a transistor, capacitor or something, when Lewis' mom suddenly screamed, and scared the crap out of _**me. **_I guess the screwdriver hit something, and Lewis' dad jerked me out of there just in time. The whole thing caught on fire." After a moment Bobby added, "Yeah, sometimes I don't know how your parents ever put up with me."

"They liked...no, they loved you, Bobby. Mom used to say you were her other son."

Bobby looked almost grateful. "And you...you were more of a brother to me than Frank ever was..."

"You, too, Bobby."

Bobby laughed again. "But I sure gave them fits."

"Yeah, you did," Lewis laughed too. "You were always one for taking chances!"

"Remember--"

"As much as I love hearing this, I have to interrupt," Alex said. "But Lewis brought something up that I think is important."

The two men looked at each other, perplexed.

"About you taking chances," Alex explained.

"What about it?" Bobby asked.

"Have you given any thought to James McFadden?"

Bobby's mood immediately changed. "Of course I have. I think of him every god damed day of my life. What has that got to do with anything?"

"I just...worry about you," Alex said, "going off on these walks by yourself."

"Well, don't," Bobby said tightly.

xxxxxxx

That night, alone in his room, he thought again about McFadden. He didn't need Alex to remind him. Bobby didn't like thinking about him, but he had no choice. The name, and worse yet, the face, appeared in his dreams at night, and his thoughts during the day. He would never, if he lived to be 100, forget what McFadden had done to him. He had been physically hurt and humiliated in a way he would probably never get over. And the man who did it was still out there, waiting for him.

Or was he? McFadden was an escaped convict, a murderer, on the run. Would he be stupid enough to remain in the city and risk being caught, just to get another chance at Bobby? Bobby thought he would. McFadden had promised him that he would get Bobby again, kidnap and torture him for a week, worse than before, before finally killing him. And he had no reason to think McFadden would renege on his promise, he'd followed through on everything else so far. And after what he'd already been through, Bobby couldn't imagine anything worse.

He started wondering about these walks he was taking. Was he taking an unnecessary risk, walking further and further every day, alone and unarmed? If McFadden and his friends caught up with him he'd be a sitting duck. Well, he would have been. But he'd gotten himself some protection. And he _**would **_use it. So now, the big question was, where was McFadden?

tbc


	30. Chapter 30

Counterplay Chapter 30

A/N This chapter rated M for language. Thanks to all of you for your reviews, I appreciate them very much.

It was time to go, time to go home. _Home_ -- Bobby thought about that word a lot._ Home—where the heart is, family, nest, haven, sanctuary._ None of these applied to him, neither now or in the past. But right now it didn't matter. After many months of being away, either incarcerated or in the hospital, all he wanted was his own bed, in his own place, where he could do or not do anything he wanted. And privacy. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been alone. And although there were many times when Bobby felt like the loneliest person in the world, he was still a very private person, and valued his privacy immensely. He couldn't _wait_ to get home.

He was also in a hurry to get back to work. He loved being a detective. It was right up his alley, he was smart, he could figure things out easily. It was like solving a puzzle. And he was very good at solving puzzles. Being a detective was what he was born to do. At least it was in his opinion. His mother, of course, didn't agree, she thought, and often told her son that being a detective was beneath their family. He should have been a scientist like his older brother, Frank, doing research and useful things with his brain. Although Bobby was extremely smart, a near genius, he would never measure up to Frank. What Mom didn't seem to get, though, was that Frank wasn't doing _anything, _unless you counted being one of the dregs of society as being useful. But then, according to Mom, Bobby had always been the lucky one-- _Stop it!_ he thought. _I am not going there! All I want is my life to be normal again!_ Or, as in Bobby's case, as normal as it could be. He had a four-fold plan for normalcy: get the counseling that was required for him, move back to his own place, go back to work, and lastly, come to some kind of terms about McFadden.

However ready Bobby was to leave, his friend Lewis wasn't as ready for him to go. And not for selfish reasons alone. Of course he enjoyed Bobby's company, but mostly, he was worried about him. Shortly after Bobby announced his decision to leave, Lewis knew he had to say something.

"I don't think you should leave, Bobby. Not yet."

Bobby looked surprised. "C'mon, Lewis, it's been great, us being together and all. But I gotta go, man. It's time."

"Do you have to do it right now? Cant it wait just a little longer?"

Bobby could tell something was really bothering him. "Alright, Lewis, what's wrong?"

"Bobby, McFadden—he's still out there. And I know all about how you're a big boy and can take care of yourself. But look at what he did to you!"

Bobby's insides constricted, and the heat rose in his cheeks. He was still terribly shamed by what had happened to him, and he hated it when anyone brought up the subject of his attack. It would be a long time before he would get over that. He _knew_ what McFadden had done to him; he didn't need to be reminded. "I'll be alright, Lewis," he said a little testily.

"But Bobby, here, at my place—he doesn't know you're here. You go back and if he's out there he's going to find you—"

"If he wants me bad enough, Lewis, he's gonna find me, no matter where I am. I can't live like this, looking over my shoulder and around every corner, waiting for him to show up. Maybe if I go home I can draw him out, and bring this to some kind of a head."

"Draw him out? Are you crazy, Bobby?"

"I am dead serious, Lewis." By the tone of his voice, and the steely expression in his dark eyes, he left no room for argument. It was a done deal.

--xx--

As luck would have it, that very morning Bobby got some great news, news that would help facilitate his return to 1PP. His case was now being taken over by Doctor Emil Skoda. Bobby couldn't be happier; he'd dealt with Skoda before and his experiences with him had, for the most part, been good. Of course, they'd had a few disagreements over the years, but had always maintained a mutual degree of respect for each other. Things were finally starting to fall into place.

At last it was time to get started. Alex had come to help, but Bobby really didn't have a lot of stuff to move. Mostly clothes, a box half full of books and dvds, and a few miscellaneous items were about it. "Not really much of a moving day," Bobby commented dryly. "You really didn't have to take a day off."

But Alex had no problem taking the day off. "Hey, I'll take any excuse to get away from my partner," she said. "People always think _you're_ difficult to work with. Obviously they've never worked with my current twit of a partner."

Bobby wasn't sure how to take that. "Thanks. I think."

Alex grinned at him. "Besides, it isn't just the moving, you know. There's the grocery shopping, the cleaning…"

"The _cleaning_?" Bobby asked, surprised. "What's there to clean?"

Eames sighed. _Men!_ "Do you think the house just cleans itself?"

"Well…no. But I haven't even been there! Besides, I thought I got one of those self-cleaning ones," he added, in a lame attempt at a joke.

Eames couldn't hide the slight smile. "That's your _oven_," she continued the joke. "But really, Bobby, you wouldn't believe the crap I threw away in your refrigerator. Moldy…something…with so much green fuzz on it you could knit a sweater--"

"Okay, Eames, I get it. But, in my defense, I haven't been there in a while. I'm usually better at that kind of stuff," Bobby told her.

Alex smiled at him. "I know you are, just giving you a hard time. And I know you had a lot on your mind back then. But…I _did_ throw a lot of stuff out. And really all that has to be done is vacuuming, dusting, airing the place out. Stuff like that."

"Okay, let's do it!" Bobby was anxious to go. Step two of his four-fold plan to return to normal.

Outside Lewis' place, Bobby and Lewis shook hands. "Thanks, Lewis, for everything. You've always been a great friend to me, and I appreciate everything."

"No problem, Buddy. You've been just as good a friend to me. And don't make yourself so scarce. I've got a '57 Chevy coming in, and I could use some help, if you're up to it."

Bobby smiled at his friend. When Lewis needed "help" it was more like an invitation to great fun and companionship with his friend. Some of their greatest times were spent working on Lewis' vintage cars. "I'm up for it," he told him.

"Great, Bobby. I'll give you a call. And Bobby…be careful, okay?"

"Yeah, sure," he said, reminded of their previous talk. "Thanks again, Lewis." The two old childhood friends hugged again.

Lewis watched as Alex and Bobby got into the SUV and pulled out. Lewis waved. _God, please keep him safe._

--xx—

Once on the road Alex said, "Wanna stop by the grocery store on the way home? We could pick up a few staples, coffee, milk, maybe a meal for tonight?"

"Sure. And a few other things I can use. God Eames, it's been so long! I feel like a kid getting his first-ever apartment!"

"I can tell," Alex laughed. "Enjoy it while you can, Bobby, it won't last forever."

After the talk he'd just had with Lewis, the smile left Bobby's face instantly. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked sharply, taking Alex by surprise.

"Huh? Um…nothing…" she stammered. "I just meant—"

"What? What the fuck is with you people today? Between you and Lewis, the harbingers of doom… Look, Alex, if you know something I'd really appreciate it if this time you'd warn…" he didn't finish his sentence, knowing immediately that he'd overreacted and crossed an invisible line.

Alex pulled off the road abruptly, causing a few honks and obscene gestures from the other drivers around her.

"_What_ did you say?" she said angrily, turning to face him. When Bobby said nothing, she went on. "That was low, Bobby! What I meant was that it was great seeing you so happy and I wished it would go on forever. I—just--forget it, okay?" She pulled out recklessly into traffic again; nearly causing a wreck that started the horns blowing, gestures and shouted curses all over again.

Bobby grabbed onto the dashboard, wincing and groaning as the sudden movement caused a sharp pain in his-not-quite healed ribs. "Jesus Christ Eames!"

She ignored him and his ribs as she stared doggedly at the road, zigging in and out of traffic. Neither said anything for a few minutes. Bobby started. "Eames…Alex, I'm sorry," he said softly. Getting no response, he continued. "Alex, I mean it, I…shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry."

She looked at him briefly, turning her head so that he wouldn't see her tears. "But, the thing is, it's true. You still don't trust me, do you?"

"I swear to God I do! It was a shitty thing to say. I don't know, it just seemed like you both were bringing me down…I…just… didn't need that today. And you're right, about me enjoying it while I can, we both know it won't last. I just wanted it to, y'know? Just for a little bit, I wanted it to last." He turned once more to the window. "Aw, fuck!" he said to his reflection.

After a few moments more of neither one speaking, Alex turned to him again and said, "Sorry about your ribs."

"Huh?"

"I said sorry about your ribs. I shouldn't have been so reckless, I could've gotten us both killed. I guess we both overreacted. As it was, I hurt your ribs again. They're never going to heal at this rate, Bobby," she said apologetically.

Bobby smiled. "It's my punishment for saying what I did. I really didn't mean it, Alex. Next time I do or say something stupid like that, you have my permission to break every one of my damn ribs."

"I'll keep that in mind. And I'm sorry I wasn't more positive."

"We're about the two sorriest people I know," Bobby said in another lame joke. "So, are we gonna go to the grocery store or not?"

"You're damn right we are! And you are going to fix me one fine dinner. You owe me now." She headed for the grocery store nearest to Bobby's apartment.

--xx--

Stopping at a small neighborhood market they both got out, Bobby making every effort not to hold his ribs and reveal how bad he was hurting. They wandered around a bit, and finally made it back to the fresh produce, where they picked up salad makings. Then they headed to the meat counter.

"Ever tried my chicken cacciatore?" Bobby asked, surveying the various meats.

"No," Alex said, "but I bet it's great. You're a fantastic cook, Bobby. My mouth is watering already."

Bobby smiled at the compliment. "I didn't say I was going to make it, just asked if you'd ever tried it," he teased.

She smacked him hard in the arm. "You better be putting _that _chicken in _that_ cart right now. Or I just might start in on those ribs now."

"Oww!" Bobby feigned pain, then laughed. "Okay, okay!" He then put the chicken in the cart, along with all the other ingredients for chicken cacciatore. Since Bobby hadn't been home in a while, he needed to replenish some supplies. They went around and picked up a few necessary household items along with Bobby's personal items: shampoo, soap, shaving cream (for those special occasions when he actually shaved) and a few other items. They paid for their purchases and loaded them into the SUV.

Once at Bobby's apartment, they took the groceries into the kitchen, where Bobby started rummaging in the cabinets, half just looking around at his stuff, just relishing being home, and half looking for spices for their dinner. "Here we go," he said, pulling down some Italian spices and depositing them on the counter. "Let me get this dinner started, and while it's simmering we can do a little cleaning."

"I'm all for that!" Alex told him. "I already told you I was starving for some of your cooking. I'm going to air this place out in the meantime."

Bobby just nodded, and started in cutting up the chicken. After about half an hour the chicken was cooked, and the sauce partially ready. He finished putting in all his spices and various other ingredients then put it on to simmer for a good while.

Returning to the living room he found that Alex had finished vacuuming, and was now doing the dusting. "I don't know," she said, "I think you got the better end of this deal."

"Tell me that after you tasted my chicken."

She laughed. "Come on, help me." Bobby grinned back, and between the two of them had the place spic and span in no time. And after a bit, they sat down to a delicious dinner of chicken cacciatore, salad and garlic bread, starting with a nice red wine.

"Oh God Bobby," Alex gushed, filling her mouth with the chicken and spaghetti, "This is incredible! I guess my deal wasn't so bad after all."

Bobby blushed. "Thank you." He was enjoying it every bit as much as she was. If nothing else, Bobby was a great cook.

--xx--

The rest of the evening was spent in their old familiar way, drinking coffee, watching tv, just enjoying each other's company. Their recent argument was already forgotten.

Finally Alex gave a big yawn. "I really need to get going. Have a big day scheduled with my idiot partner."

Bobby chuckled. "Hope you never referred to me like that."

Alex laughed, "Never in a million years! At least you were smart."

"Okay," Bobby said, giving her arm a squeeze. "Call me when you get home."

"I will." Alex gave Bobby a peck on the cheek, then they both walked down to Alex's car.

"Uh…watch pulling out into traffic," Bobby suggested.

Alex smirked, then got into her car. Bobby watched as Alex pulled out, then waited until she disappeared. He walked back into the house, and poured himself a drink, a little something to help ease his aching ribs, which he'd tried to keep from Alex. He sat on the couch, awaiting the call from his soon to be partner again.

While he waited, he thought about returning to work, and the fulfillment he got from his career. It was a good choice he'd made, one he had never regretted, not even for a single moment.

Finally the phone rang, and Bobby reached over and picked it up. "Alex? You home?"

"Nah, this aint sweet little Alex," came the familiar male voice. Bobby froze. _How the hell--?_

"Bobby? What's the matter, Bobby? I just thought you might not want to spend your first night at home alone." McFadden sneered at him. "Lose your voice, Bobby? Or just scared out of your fucking mind?" He laughed.

Bobby recovered quickly. "You mother fucking son of a bitch! You want a fight? Well I want one, too! You bring it on, you miserable asshole. This time it's gonna be you on the receiving end. You hear me mother fucker? YOU HEAR ME?!"

"Oh, I hear you, I hear you. And don't you worry, Bobby-boy, we _will_ go another round. I got big plans for you, Bobby, big plans. And this time, you aint gonna be so lucky." The phone clicked off.

Bobby put the phone down slowly.

Either Bobby or McFadden was going down. The war was on.

tbc


	31. Chapter 31

Counterplay Chapter 31

A/N Sorry for the delay, a lot of stuff going on. Thanks for staying with this story, and thanks to Roadrunner for her thoughts and suggestions.

Bobby was furious, almost out of control. He was raging. He grabbed at the phone, then threw it with everything he had into the wall. He regretted that immediately, as his ribs seemed to catch on fire. He grabbed his ribs, pressing in hard, his body breaking out in a cold sweat. This frustrated him even more. He was a very independent person, and his still healing injuries inhibited that independence. If it came down to a physical fight, the fact that he was still not 100 put him at a huge disadvantage. But if McFadden got to carry out his threat on him, broken ribs would be the least of his problems.

Bobby paced, he wasn't really sure what to do with himself, other than the fact that he had to call Eames, warn her. McFadden's phone call had come as a complete shock. He knew he needed to deal with McFadden at some time, but the fact that McFadden had contacted him on his first night back home stunned him. He wanted to get at McFadden more than life itself, but once again he was clearly at a disadvantage. McFadden knew where he was, he had no idea where McFadden was. And wherever he was hidden, it was a good place; no one had seen hide nor hair of him since the attack, or even knew if he was still in the city. _New York's Finest, huh?_

The quiet of the room was soon interrupted by the loud ringing of the phone. Bobby stood stock still, in shock all over again, then grabbed the phone off the floor. "You fucker! I told you to come on! Now!" Bobby raged.

"_Bobby?"_ came a metallic-sounding voice, made all the more so by the static in the phone.

"Eames?" Bobby asked, taken aback.

"_Bobby? I can hardly hear you! What's wrong with your phone?"_

_Shit,_ Bobby thought, remembering how he'd slammed the phone into the wall. "Call me back on my cell!"

"_What? Bobby? Are you there?"_

"I SAID, CALL ME BACK--!" _Never mind_. He grabbed his cell from the table and dialed Eames' cell.

"Bobby?" Alex answered her cell on the first ring.

"Yeah."

"_I'm home." _

'I know." Bobby said, a little distractedly; his mind was actually still a little preoccupied.

"_You _did_ ask me to call." _No response. _"Bobby, are you okay?"_

"Yeah, I'm…I'm fine," he lied. The last thing he wanted right now was for her to start worrying, and come over. God only knew where McFadden was, he could be right outside the house, and he didn't want to put her in any danger. But she needed to know that McFadden had made contact; she could even be in danger herself. "No…no, I'm not," he amedned. "McFadden, he…called me."

"_What?! I'm coming back! Now!"_

"NO!! Just stay put!"

"_But—"_

"Damn it, Alex, for God's sake, will you just freaking listen to me? Just stay put, okay? There's an off-chance, a small chance, that he might come after you. I want you right now to secure your place, and I'll call Deakins and have him send someone over to watch you—"

"_So, what? You still think I can't take care of myself?"_

Bobby sighed heavily, he really didn't have the time or the patience for this argument. "Alex…can we do this another day?"

"_Do what?"_ she asked, stubbornly.

"Save the 'I can take care of myself' conversation for another day? I really don't have time for this bullshit right now. Just do as I asked. Please?"

Despite the fact Alex didn't like to be protected, treated differently, all of the above, she realized he was right. This was not the time. He had to be going out of his freaking mind right now, she had to give him at least that little peace of mind. _"Okay,"_ she said, softer. Then, _"Bobby, what_ _about you? What are you going to do? Are you calling for backup?"_

"Yeah, yeah, don't worry. Look, I gotta go. I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"_Alright."_ Alex was very anxious right now. _"Call me if…you need me, okay? Just to let me know you're okay."_

"Yeah, okay. Alex, secure your place now. I'll call Deakins."

XXXX

Much later, scotch in hand, Bobby was once again pacing. He knew he shouldn't be drinking, especially since he was still on painkillers for his ribs. But one wouldn't hurt, and it would help calm him. There was no way he could go to bed, nor did he want to. He had a gun close by, and his switchblade. He was not going to be caught unarmed.

He hated this. If McFadden was coming he wished he'd just do it. In one way he welcomed the confrontation, he wanted it over and done with. On the other hand, if the outcome was not favorable…

He had to calm himself and think. Obviously McFadden had been watching him. He'd been alone and vulnerable often in the last couple of weeks. So why hadn't McFadden snatched him already? It would have been simple; he would have been a sitting duck. So what was the deal, calling him and warning him? Was it a scare tactic? To throw him off his game? Or just to make his final hours, or days, as McFadden had promised, as terrorizing and miserable as possible? Bobby was not one to be frightened easily, but even he had to admit to being a little unnerved. Maybe more than a little. He went to get another drink, his last one, and contemplated all that had happened.

_That threat…_as much as he tried to put it out of his mind, he never really could, and it came back full force. He remembered being tied down, McFadden , so close Bobby could smell his putrid breath, _"I've decided to do you a big favor, Bobby. Instead of killing you and putting you out of your misery, I've decided to postpone it. I'm going to __let you live, so you can suffer, and let the pain go on indefinitely, and the shame… will stay with you forever… You think this was bad? This was nothing. You'll be begging me to kill you, and I most definitely will, when I'm finally through with you. So I'd be real careful if I were you, you'll never know when I'm coming. So, until next time, Bobby."_

Bobby closed his eyes, trying to block out the memory of what had happened. He was not successful. McFadden was right about one thing. He eventually did get over the physical pain, or most of it anyway. But he never would get over the shame.

To think it had all started with his old nemesis Nicole Wallace. She'd tried to frame him for murder and damn near succeeded. The only part that she didn't figure on was the fact that it was her murder he'd be accused of. His life had since turned completely upside down, into a living hell. He still maintained that Nicole was sitting in her own private little corner in the real Hell, laughing at him all the way.

After a few more minutes, and just a little more scotch, his nerves had calmed somewhat. And the more he thought about it, the angrier he became. Oh, there was definitely going to be a showdown. The only questions were when and where.

XXXX

All night long Bobby paced, which was pretty much his custom when dealing with something that was bothering him. But this was a little more than something. Alex called a few times, too worried herself to sleep. But nothing happened. Bobby still insisted on Alex having some protection, and despite himself, Deakins insisted on the same for him.

XXXX

Bobby's appointment with Skoda was coincidently the following day. The two had dealt with issues before, mostly pertaining to cases, just occasionally personal issues. Holding a large file, Skoda himself ushered Bobby back to his office. "Hi, Bobby. Take a seat."

Bobby mumbled something in response, not a bit enthused over the whole thing. "Is that all me?" he asked, indicating the rather oversized file.

Skoda gave an apologetic shrug. "What can I say? You're a busy guy. Want to sit down?" he repeated, noticing Bobby's restlessness. A slight shake of the head was all Skoda got in return.

Bobby wandered over to the window, where he stood looking down on the hectic busy city. _McFadden_…_He's out there—somewhere ,waiting…_ Bobby thought_._ He couldn't seem to concentrate.

"Bobby?" Still Bobby didnt say anything. Skoda waited. He knew Bobby was not at all happy about the therapy session, but he had expected that. Bobby always needed a lot of time and work until he was able to talk about what was on his mind, and he tended to over internalize. He also knew that Bobby was agitated. He could see it by the set of his shoulders and how he was staring out of the window, clenching and unclenching his fists, still watching silently as the rest of the world below him went on, unknowing and uncaring.

Skoda sat there, still waiting, watching as Bobby fumbled absently with one of his cuffs. Without turning around Bobby mumbled, "He...he's back. He's here, in the city."

"McFadden," Skoda guessed correctly. "Did he contact you?" When Bobby hesitated, Skoda said, a little more firmly, "Talk to me, Bobby."

Bobby suddenly turned to him. "Why?" he demanded angrily. "McFadden's out there, gunning for me! Why am I even here? What the hell can _you_ possibly do about it?!"

"Nothing," he admitted. "The real question is, what are _you _going to do about it?"

Bobby ran his hands through his hair, and dropped heavily onto the end of the couch, his hands still moving relentlessly. His troubled eyes made contact with Skoda's. "He called me. The motherfucker called me!" Bobby just could not sit still, he was on his feet and pacing again, so angry he was shaking. It seemed to emanate from every fiber of his being.

"Bobby, would you like to tell me a little about that rage you're carrying around inside you?"

"Why do you think?" came the sarcastic reply.

Skoda ignored the sarcasm, just waited, and Bobby, extremely ashamed, put his head in his hands, facing the wall. "Because...because of what he did to me. And there was nothing I could do to stop him…nothing. It was the worst moment of my life. I am so ashamed of what he did…sometimes I feel like…I'm not a man anymore." He whispered the last part, totally stripped of any self worth. "And I'm scared to death, I admit it. I'm scared to death that he's going to do it all over again…"

When Bobby turned back, Skoda saw the raw emotion on his face, the total vulnerability, and the pain. He knew what had happened to Bobby, and knowing the man personally, he wanted nothing more than to hug Bobby and tell him everything was going to be okay. But he couldn't.

"I'm not going to lie to you, Bobby," he told him. "This is going to be hard, maybe one of the hardest things you've ever done in your life, and it may take quite awhile. But you're going to do it, to work through it, and I'm going to be here with you every step of the way."

An odd look passed over Bobby's face for just a second, so fast, Skoda almost missed it. It was just a slight flicker of hope.

That little look managed to convince Skoda himself that maybe, just maybe, that together they could get Bobby better, back on track, and even back to work. Bobby had a lot of issues, but nothing that, with a lot of work, couldn't be fixed. But first things first. There was no chance of Bobby recovering as long as James McFadden still roamed the streets of New York City.

tbc


	32. Chapter 32

Counterplay Chapter 32

Dr. Emil Skoda was pleased. Goren's therapy was going really well. They had addressed a number of problems and worked through quite a few of them. In fact, he was so pleased he was about to recommend that Bobby return to work as soon as next week, assuming he was alright physically. He hadn't mentioned this to Bobby yet, though. He still had one more point to go over with him, and it was an important one. At least it was to the partnership of Goren and Eames.

After Bobby arrived in his office and was settled down into the rich soft leather chair, Skoda gave him the good news.

"So, Bobby, how do you feel about the prospect of going back to work in the next week or so?"

The look on Bobby's face said it all. "I'd say it was about time," he said, with that little half smile of his.

"I was thinking of maybe next week, if all goes well. Obviously it would be desk duty until you're fully healed."

"Of course," Bobby agreed, although he was really anxious for the thrill of the chase. He knew he wouldn't be a desk jockey long. At least as far as he was concerned.

"If I'm sure you're ready. Mentally and physically."

"Oh, I'm ready," Bobby assured him.

"For everything to be back to normal, huh?"

He couldn't get anything past Bobby. He narrowed his eyes. "Just what are you getting at? Just say it."

"How do you feel about your partnership with Detective Eames?" Skoda watched him closely.

"I told you before. Eames is a great partner. She's a great detective, she's smart, she's—"

"I'm not asking you about her abilities as a detective. I think you know what I'm referring to."

Bobby shifted slightly in his seat. "I also told you I was over that. I told her I forgave her."

"But do you?"

"Yes!"

"Even though it was her fault you were beaten to within an inch of your life?"

Bobby just stared at him. "Yes."

Skoda continued. "Even though it was her fault you were sexually assaulted?"

"It wasn't her fault! She didn't have a choice!"

"Do you really believe that, or are you trying to convince yourself?"

Bobby ran his hands through his hair, and then said, in a soft voice, "What do you want from me? Do you want me to tell you that I blame Alex? That I'll never trust her again? Is that what you want? Is that what it will take to get me back on the job?" He looked totally miserable.

"What will get you back on the job is complete honesty. I want to be sure you have the confidence to do your job. You have to be able to trust your partner, you know that. Anything less than that could be potentially fatal, to both you and your partner. If necessary, you might need a new partner. One you can trust explicitedly."

Bobby continued to glare at Skoda. But he did think about what he said. "Alright. I admit it. I was angry—not just angry, furious, angrier than I've ever been in my life. I felt betrayed. She led me right into a trap with a man who'd vowed to kill me. Only he did worse. He humiliated me unbelievably, so badly I never thought I could show my face in public again. He hurt me so bad physically I nearly died. If I hadn't been gagged I'd have begged him to kill me. It was the worst pain I've ever felt. I would have never imagined my own partner leading me into that. I trusted her with my life."

"And now? How do you feel about it?"

"What I felt at first has changed. I felt betray_ed_," Bobby said, with an emphasis on the _ed_, "as in the past. Now, I understand. She had to do it. It was either me or the child she gave birth to. If…if it had been my child, if I had a real family, I'd have done the same thing. I've been second my whole life. I'm used to it now; I guess after all this time I'm comfortable there. But my own child? My child would definitely come first. Absolutely. There's extenuating circumstances in many different areas of life. Including our partnership. This was one of them. I _want_ to go back to work, and I _want_ Alex as my partner. I still trust her with my life. I always will."

Skoda took all this in, writing some of it down in his notes. Then he nodded at Bobby, and smiled. "Okay then, Bobby. I'll put in my recommendation and see if we can get you back on the job."

"Thank you, Emil," Bobby said, shaking Skoda's hand as a huge grin spread over his face.

"I will want to see you a few more times after you've started back. There's still a few issues I'd like to address, nothing major, and I want to see how you're coming along."

Bobby didn't have a problem with that, right now he was so happy all he could think of was getting back to work.

XXX

James McFadden was bored. He'd spent so much time in this dingy basement under the bar he was going out of his warped evil mind. He couldn't wait for this all to be over. And by "this" he meant his final assault on Detective Robert Goren. This was the only thing keeping him going now. Lying down to sleep at night he fantasized about everything he was going to do to him. He obsessed over him constantly, so much so that his companions, Micks and Wilson, were actually thinking he was possessed. They'd thought a few times about taking off, but could never do it, fearing to become his next obsession. Once you hooked up with James McFadden, you were married, you were with him for life. Unfortunately for Micks and Wilson, it was a lesson learned too late.

McFadden sent them out from time to time, separately, to check on Goren, and to test them. They always came back, scared out of their minds that they'd be recognized. The truth was, nobody cared about them anymore; they were already forgotten. Forgotten by everyone except Bobby Goren.

But they had done their jobs. McFadden knew where Goren was, every minute of every day. McFadden himself had made the rare trip out. He'd seen Bobby a few times, when he'd gone on walks while staying with Lewis. Goren had always walked alone, and at times seemed somewhat distracted; it would have been so easy to pick him off. But that didn't fit in with his plans. He wanted Goren to _know_ who did it, and he wanted him to suffer.

He thought about his plan, over and over. First he wanted to scare him, let him know that he hadn't gone unnoticed, that he hadn't been out of McFadden's mind for a minute. The plan was for the three of them to abduct him and take him far away from here, where no one would ever find them, and then he would take his time with him. If Bobby thought what had happened to him before was bad…well, he had no idea.

McFadden was starting to get excited; it was time to get this party rolling.

XXXX

The evening that Bobby found out he was going back to work he called Alex. But he wanted to surprise her.

The phone rang in Alex's apartment. "Eames," she answered.

"Yeah, um, it's me. Hey, Eames, wanna get some dinner with me tonight?"

"We pretty much do that every night," she told him patiently.

"No, I mean, let's go out. Get dressed, make it an evening."

"Sure! I'm up for that! Any particular reason?"

"Yes. I'm bored. Tired of the same old thing. Just want to do something. I found a great new Italian place_…_"

"Like I said, I'm up for that. You know me; I'm always up for eating out."

"I know," Bobby teased, "especially when I'm paying."

"Well, _you_ did ask _me_," she defended herself.

"Okay, be ready. I'll pick you up at seven."

Getting off the phone, Alex was a little excited. Bobby hadn't sounded this good in months, which in turn made her feel good. She looked in her closet to find something nice, and there it was, that green dress Bobby liked so much. It wasn't very fancy; in fact it was rather simple, but "it brought out her eyes" Bobby had once said. It since became her favorite dress, too. After making her decision, she jumped into the shower. She was surprised to find herself as keyed up as she was about this evening.

XXX

When Bobby picked her up that evening, he was looking pretty good.

"You sure clean up nice," Alex said appreciatively, looking him over shamelessly.

Bobby turned a little red, which Alex secretly thought was sweet. "Uh, you do, too…" _Geez,_ _could I have given her a worse compliment?_ _She's a woman, for God's sake!_ "Uh, I mean, you look nice. Really nice."

Alex smiled. "Thank you, Bobby. What's this new place you've found?"

"Just a new little Italian place. A couple of my friends just opened it."

"I always like meeting your friends. They're always such a...variety. And so many..."

"Anyway, they call it Mario&Luigi's. Like the video game."

Alex laughed. "So…we're all dressed up…and having dinner at a video arcade?"

"You don't think I'd take you to some cheap place with fake names and bad food, do you? The place is nice, Eames, and it just happens they had their names a long time before the video game guys."

"Okay, Goren, show me what you got," Alex challenged.

Mario&Luigi's turned out to be exquisite. It really was owned by Luccessi brothers, Mario and Luigi, long time friends of Bobby's.

Mario himself seated them. "And who is this delicate flower, Bobby?" he asked indicating Alex.

"This is my partner, Alex Eames, and I'm not so sure 'delicate' is the word she'd use to describe herself," Bobby laughed. Mario laughed, too, telling them he was quite sure they were wrong. He took them to their table, where Bobby, always the gentleman, pulled out Alex's chair for her, pushing it in as she was seated.

Alex seemed mesmerized. Bobby smiled. "See? I told you."

"You never cease to amaze me, Bobby."

Before Bobby even had a chance to say anything more, Luigi came up with a bottle of champagne. "For you, Bobby, our very best."

"Thank you, Luigi," Bobby told him gratefully.

After Luigi left, Alex looked around again. "Champagne, Bobby?" She laughed, really enjoying herself. "What are we celebrating?"

Bobby, with that beautiful smile, raised his glass, and Alex followed. "How about we celebrate the return of our partnership?"

They tapped their glasses and said together, "To our partnership."

Then Bobby, with a new look of determination, said, "Goren and Eames are _**back**_."

tbc


	33. Chapter 33

A/N This is the last chapter of my story. I'd like to thank you all for sticking it out with me, it's been a long time coming. Very special thanks to my very good friends, Roadrunner and blucougar, for all their help and suggestions along the way.

Counterplay Chapter 33

Bobby was back on the job. The first case Alex and he caught sent them on a downright scavenger hunt through all five boroughs. Both were glad when they finally could find the murderer of Ariel Power. Relying on their well-tried interrogation tactics they needed only twenty-three minutes to get her adopted brother to confess.

Once more Bobby invited his partner to dinner to celebrate their first solved case after his forced absence. Both enjoyed an Italian four-course dinner at their favorite restaurant and they were talking about God and the world but not once about their job or the ordeal he had gone through. One of their subjects was the car Bobby wanted to work on together with Lewis. He had talked about it all week, and he was very excited. It was a '72 Chevelle Malibu Convertible. He enthused over its body and 454 engine they were rebuilding, and how they were going to paint it to its original red and white color. He was still talking about it for about half of the time they were at the restaurant; Alex was happy for him that he could focus on something else besides the threat McFadden cast over him. Besides, Alex knew a lot about cars, so the subject intrigued her.

"Lewis does pretty good with his business, doesn't he?" she asked.

"Yeah," Bobby said, "his dream job. When his dad died, he left him and his mom in pretty good shape, more than enough to get started in the business."

"That must be nice," Alex replied glibly, and immediately regretted it as a dark cloud came over Bobby's face.

He didn't say anything, but deep down it had always bothered him that not only had his own father neglected to provide even a dime for them, but drank, gambled, and whored his way through every bit of his money, leaving his family virtually destitute. Years later, Bobby had even had to pay for his funeral. It wasn't the money, Bobby never cared whether he was "left" anything or not, what bothered him was his father's complete disregard for his family in general, and him in particular. But that was a matter for another day and another session. Bobby refused to let it bring him down, and Alex quickly changed the subject.

"Kinda wish I was joining you guys tomorrow," she said, "but I'll settle for bringing you two lunch. What would you like?"

Bobby grinned. "Surprise us."

XXX

The next day saw Bobby rise early, slip into jeans and a t-shirt and drive out to Lewis' body shop right after a light breakfast. His long-time friend greeted him exuberantly and they started right away with their work, joking and talking, mostly about the car itself. There was nothing Bobby enjoyed more or put him more at ease than time spent with Lewis restoring cars, something they'd started in their teens.

Hours later, Bobby and Lewis were so engrossed in the restoration of the '72 Chevelle Convertible that neither of them noticed the man entering the garage. He walked up behind Bobby, intent on remaining unheard. For a moment he towered over the tall detective who still didn't notice him as he worked on the engine. The man reveled in the fact that he managed to sneak up on the cop and looked forward to his reaction once he made his presence known.

"What's it take to get a little service around here?" the man said easily.

Lewis' head shot up as he heard the would-be customer ask for his services. He never noticed how Bobby froze and hurried to say, "Sorry man, sorry to keep you waiting."

Still being clueless Lewis approached the man. Bobby on the other hand immediately recognized the voice.

"That's alright, it was worth the wait." As James McFadden spoke, both garage doors began lowering, manned by Micks and Wilson, then closing in on the men beside the car threateningly.

Chills shot down Bobby's spine as he felt a gun press in his side.

"Hey…" Lewis started, but was backhanded across the mouth so hard that it made him tumble aside.

"Shut up!" McFadden snarled.

Intent on protecting Lewis, Bobby stepped between him and his arch enemy. "You son of a bitch!" he growled as he made the move… right into the blade of a hunting knife. A searing pain blinded him as his forearm was sliced open.

Bobby had not expected the knife. He had sensed the gun and knowing that McFadden wanted to take him alive he had felt confident that he had a chance to subdue him.

"That looks bad, Bobby," McFadden sneered, grinning at him viciously, totally enjoying their final confrontation. Indicating the profusely bleeding wound he taunted, "You really should get that taken care of."

"Keep this up," Bobby said, breathing heavily, "and you'll just be having fun with a dead body."

"Don't you worry that big brain of yours," McFadden chuckled. "If I wanted to just kill you you'd already be dead. That little pain won't snuff you out. But I promise you that you'll have a long time of suffering ahead while I show you what I can do with this knife."

Waving the gun back in forth in front of Bobby, he gestured to Bobby to get down on his knees. Bobby made no move to comply, and he suddenly found himself kissing the concrete floor hard. Then his arms were painfully twisted behind his back, and the metal cuffs snapped into place, binding him effectively.

Bobby groaned as the rough treatment made his recently healed shoulders burn; his joints felt like they were on fire. Squinting up Bobby had to watch helplessly as his friend Lewis was cuffed, too. In seconds both men were rendered helpless.

Lewis glanced at Bobby who lay prone on the ground, breathing heavily with suppressed panic. His insides churned with the sight. Remembering what McFadden had done to him before, he was more scared for Bobby than for his own life.

"Wondering what's next?" McFadden sneered. "Well, we're going on a field trip!"

xXx

Meanwhile, Alex was just arriving with the sandwiches she wanted to surprise the boys with, cheesesteak hoagies, which she knew Bobby loved. She knew how they forgot to eat when they were tinkering with their cars. Approaching the garage she noticed that the doors were down.

_Shouldn't they still be up?_ Alex wondered. _Were they breaking early or something? No, they wouldn't, they wanted to get as much done today as possible…no telling when Bobby would get another chance._

Alex went into the back of the house, which was connected to the garage, and started to open the door to the garage. Catching a quick glimpse she stopped immediately. A sharp gasp escaped her in the face of the deadly enemies cornering her partner. Hurrying back to the kitchen, she grabbed Bobby's off-duty piece and went back to the door, where she listened for one more moment.

Running back to her car, she grabbed her off-duty piece, getting out her cell phone with the other hand. She hit 911 and gave her position, "830 Trucker Avenue--10-13, officer down, 10-13. We need backup. And a bus." Then she hurried back into the house, checking on the suspects and their hostages.

Opening the door Alex was confronted with a horrifying sight. McFadden just pulled Bobby back up to his feet, dragging him toward the garage door. Bobby tried to plant his feet, tried to resist… but Lewis' groan kept him from any other attempts to fight. Micks had hit Lewis hard, making him stumble. Bobby's friend was bleeding from a laceration on his forehead.

"Police! Freeze!" Alex shouted, shoving the door open and raising her gun. In response Micks and Wilson pointed their guns at her.

Realizing that he had the element of surprise on his side Bobby threw himself at McFadden, going down together with him. Both men hit the ground hard and the gun was knocked out of the perp's grip.

"Bobby!" Alex hollered out as she saw McFadden scramble to his feet, going for the weapon.

Even though he was still cuffed behind his back Bobby pushed himself off the ground and against his torturer's legs, taking him down once again.

He had mere seconds, but Alex saw it like it was in slow motion.

Making some strange guttural sound McFadden fought for his advantage, pulling his knife out and lunging back at Bobby, who barely managed to twist out of the way.

Lewis screamed as Micks shoved the gun under his jaw, and Alex fired. Micks fell backwards, a third eye in his forehead.

Uniforms began surging into the garage, and Wilson immediately dropped his gun, surrendering to the first cop on him.

Bobby and McFadden were still grappling for the gun on the ground. Still holding his knife McFadden attacked Bobby, again missing him by inches.

Cop swarmed over the two fighting men and pulled McFadden off Bobby. Two uniforms helped Bobby to his feet. His clothes were disheveled, torn and dirty, his hair matted with blood; the blood from his arm wound covering him.

Putting her gun into her waistband Alex hurried over to Bobby, hurrying to free his hands and pulling him into a tight hug.

"Alex," he just murmured, returning the embrace. Shudders passed through her petite form as she nestled into the crook of his arm. Neither of them paid attention to the perps being led away to a patrol car. They were way too glad to just have survived this confrontation.

"Look out!" someone screamed.

Alex whipped around, spotting McFadden who had wrestled himself out of the grip of two cops and with cuffed hands grabbed one of their weapons. He was aiming for one last shot at Bobby.

In the blink of an eye it was over.

A shot thundered.

McFadden bucked.

For a second he stood, stunned, before he dropped to the ground screaming.

Spinning around Alex saw her partner, still standing in shooting position, the back-up piece he had pulled from her waistband in his hands. He seemed dazed, his eyes glazed over and she wondered if he even knew what happened.

"Bobby?" she said.

Only slowly did he focus on her. When she had his attention she reached out and he put the secured weapon in her hand.

McFadden was still screaming and thrashing around on the floor. Holding his crotch he kept screaming, "You did this on purpose! You bastard! You mother fucking bastard! You did this on purpose!"

Another cop had released Lewis, who seemed to be in shock with all that was happening. Unsteadily, he staggered over to Bobby and Alex. He looked shaken. Alex was reaching for him, steadying him.

Turning back to Bobby, she asked "You okay?"

"I'm gonna make it," he said, gritting his teeth as he held his arm tightly. His arm was still bleeding freely. He looked at Lewis. "How about you, you okay?"

"Yeah, this ain't nothing," Lewis was preoccupied, glancing over at the man who had caused his friend so much pain. "Holy shit! Look where you shot him!"

Bobby did. He went over, and looked down at McFadden, who was still holding his crotch in agony. "McFadden," he told the injured man, mimicking his words, "That looks bad. You really should get that taken care of." This only caused McFadden to scream more, death threats and other forms of retaliation. Bobby just smiled.

They could already hear the sirens, and as the ambulances pulled up and the paramedics hurried in, the police finally carted out Wilson, who managed to piss himself in fright.

It didn't take long before they had McFadden ready to go, and the late Steve Micks in the other ambulance.

Before leaving, one of the paramedics gave Bobby and Lewis a very quick once over, deciding Lewis' head laceration was superficial, but he should have it checked out to be sure. Bobby was alright except for his arm, which the medic declared needed stitching badly. He asked Bobby if he wanted to ride along, but Bobby refused.

"He'll get them," Alex promised. "We'll be following right behind you." With that the ambulance was gone.

"Wow, what a way to welcome yourself back to the NYPD," Lewis mumbled, still pretty upset.

"Yeah," Bobby agreed.

"Uh…one question?" Alex asked. "Um…where you shot him…that was one hell of a shot, partner. Was it a blind shot, or did you actually aim?"

Bobby just gave her his beautiful little half smile...

xXx

Two days later, back at the station, once again Bobby was on desk duty. "This is getting habit-forming," he grumbled, sitting at his desk across from Alex.

"Well, at least this time it's just temporary," Alex reminded him, "just until the stitches come out. You don't want to take a chance on ripping those out. How many did you get again?"

"Sixty six, inside and out." Bobby looked at his barely healing arm, displaying a nasty stitched cut running the length of his forearm, from elbow to wrist.

Alex gave a low whistle. "That's gonna leave one hell of a scar. But the good news is we women like that in a man."

Bobby just looked at her.

"Still hurt?" she asked.

"Not too bad, nothing I can't handle. I'll tell you one thing though," Bobby said, thinking back on his unfortunate encounters with McFadden. "When he does something, he does it right."

"I'll say," Alex agreed.

"But you know what, Eames?"

"No, what?"

"We did it right, too. If we didn't have this…great…and I really mean _**great**_, partnership, I might not be alive today."

Alex nodded again, very emotional now, as tears threatened to well up in her eyes. "Well, we do have our ups and downs…"

"Yeah we do. And we probably always will. But the thing is, at least we still _**have**_ a partnership. And friendship, Alex. Even McFadden…he tried…but even he couldn't break this one up. And _**that**_ we will always have."

Bobby's cell phone then started ringing. Looking at the caller ID, he answered it and listened intently, then closed his phone, looking very thoughtful, very far away.

Alex gave him a few seconds, wondering at the look on his face, and finally said, "Bobby? Something wrong?"

"That was my friend from the hospital ward at Rikers. I…uh…asked him to keep me updated on McFadden's condition…"

"And?"

"He said the bullet that hit McFadden in the crotch did so much damage that they couldn't save his…um, balls. It's already all over the prison. And long before he gets to Attica they'll know. He said that McFadden's life there will be hell on earth…"

A second before he ducked his head back into his paperwork, Alex once again saw that little half-smile that appeared on Bobby's face, and again she was tempted to ask him if that shot had been skill or blind luck.

But she never did ask. And he'd never tell.

_End_

Thank you so much for reading.


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